Hopalong arose. "You made good time," he said.
"Reckon so," replied Red, riding toward him. "I only got two canteens an' not much grub. Th' Kid'll be ready for us tomorrow. What about yore cayuse?"
"Don't worry," chuckled Hopalong. "It's th' cayuses that's been botherin' me most. They're all right now. I found a little hole with cold, sweeet water, an' there's grass around it for th' cayuses. There ain't much, but enough for these two goats. Th' water-hole ain't more'n three feet across an' a foot deep, but it fills up good an' has wet quite a spot around it. An' Red, I found somethin' else!"
"Good; what is it?"
"There's clay around it an' a thin layer of sand over th' clay," replied Hopalong. "I found th' prints of a cayuse an' a man, an' they was fresh—not more'n twenty-four hours old if I'm any judge. I cast around on widenin' circles, but couldn't pick up th' trail any distance from th' hole. Th' wind that's been blowin' all day wiped 'em out; but it didn't wipe out much at th' edge of th' water. I could even make it out where he knelt to drink. There you are: a dead cow, with th' brand skinned off; tracks of a man an' a cayuse at that water-hole; no herd tracks, no other cayuse tracks—just them two, an' our suspicions. What you think?"
Red chuckled. "I think we're gettin' somewhere, cussed slow an' I don't know where; but I'm playin' up that skinned cow. If it was all skinned I'd say a hide hunter might 'a' done it, an' that he made th' tracks you saw; but it wasn't. You should 'a' looked better near th' carcass instead of huntin' up th' water-hole. You might
