" A horse could
beat him in a sprint, but there were few mustangs on the ranch that he
could not have worn down and beaten in a stretch of twenty miles.
It was with no lack of confidence, therefore, that he reached his
decision.
He hurried back to his horse, tore a scrap of paper from his note-book
and hastily scribbled a note to Dick. It was in cipher, so that if it
fell into hostile hands no one else could understand its purport. He told
him of his discovery and urged him to have Melton put Pedro under guard
until his return. He adjured him not to worry, as he would probably be
back before twenty-four hours.
A word of greeting to Tom and the Meltons, and he placed the paper
securely under the saddle, with just an end protruding to attract notice.
Then he released the horse, untied his jaws, gave him a smart slap on
the back and sent him off toward home. The delighted broncho threw up
his heels and set off at a pace that promised soon to get him to his
well-filled manger. Then, with a last glance at his weapon, to see that
it was in perfect trim, Bert vanished into the woods and set out upon the
trail as silently and swiftly as an Indian.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232