The horse looked up, stared and went galloping down the little valley, stampeding the others with him.
"That's about where I thought we'd wind up--in a saddle bunch," Lone observed disgustedly.

"If I had the evidence you're carrying in your pocket, Swan, I'd put that darn dog on the scent of the man, not the horse." "The man I've got," Swan retorted.

"I don't have to trail him." "Well, now, you _think_ you've got him.

Here's good, level ground--I couldn't get outa sight in less than ten minutes, afoot.

Let me walk out a ways, and you see if that handkerchief's mine.