within fifty yards, then he would throw up his head and trot away. The boy followed him for hours thinking he would wear out this persistent aloofness, but all to no purpose. When night fell he was still as far from securing his horse chum as ever.
"Don't be discouraged, son" said Big Bill to him that night as he recounted the day's futile pursuit, "when he gets good and ready he will let you catch him. Until then there ain't much use chasing him. I'd jest let him alone."
But Larry could not content himself with idleness and every day for two weeks he went out to look for Patches. Some days he didn't see the horse at all and then a great fear would seize him. Perhaps he had ventured into the timber and the wolves had pulled him down. But the following day Larry would usually find him.
It seemed to Larry that the brightest and best thing in his life had been taken from him. He never could have imagined he would miss a mere animal so terribly. But Patches was more than an animal; he was a chum, a companion in the day's work. He and Larry had ranged the ranch together early and late, in spring, summer, autumn, and winter and they had come to be inseparable. If Patches missed Larry he gave no sign for at the end of two weeks he still eluded him just as he had the first day.
