It's wiping out the
path you made when you broke through. How far's the ranch now?"
"Close to five miles."
Both men had lowered their voices almost to a whisper.
"It's going to be a near thing, Sam. Your men are played out. Harley will
never make it without help. From now on every mile will be worse than the
last."
Yesler nodded quietly. "Some one has got to go ahead for help. That's the
only way."
"It will have to be you, of course. You know the road best and can get
back quickest. Better take her pony. It's the fittest."
The owner of the C B hesitated an instant before he answered. He was the
last man in the world to desert a comrade that was down, but his common
sense told him his friend had spoken wisely. The only chance for the party
was to get help to it from the ranch.
"All right. If anybody plays out beside her try to keep him going. If it
comes to a showdown leave him for me to pick up. Don't let him stop the
whole outfit."
"Sure. Better leave me that bottle of whisky. So-long."
"You're going to ride, I reckon?"
"Yes. I'll have to.
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