122 WAITING IN THE WILDERNESS 



i 

 tracks. The thief had walked his horse about 



and back and forth, making the ground as criss- 

 crossed as he could. In a minute the cowboy 

 called: "I have it!" He was a crack trailer 

 when it came to following dim or old trails. 

 But without experience in following trails con- 

 cealed by man, the tricks of the thief, as Moore 

 read them, greatly interested him. 



The line of barefoot horse tracks led diagonally 

 across a cactus-covered stretch and came back 

 into the main road about two miles beyond the 

 forks. The trailers read the actions of the 

 thief as they followed his tracks. After gallop- 

 ing a few miles he had slowed down. Twice 

 he had stopped in the road. 



"He is up to something," said the foreman. 

 "He probably wants to leave the road at some 

 place, most likely, where he can best conceal 

 his trail. It must have been daylight when he 

 reached here." 



From the hill where he stopped last he evi- 

 dently had seen a herd of range horses a mile or 

 two south of the road. Out to them he galloped. 

 He drove a number of them back to the road on 

 the hillside. The horses had scattered, a number 

 crossing to the north side of the road, then 

 wheeling and recrossing to the south side. Here 

 and there among these many tracks the thief had 

 ridden, leaving his trail involved and indistinct. 



