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Badlands Billy 
x 
WHEN BILLY WENT BACK TO HIS MOUNTAIN 
We were back opposite to where the Wolf 
had plunged, but saw no sign. We rode at an 
easy gallop, on eastward, a mile, and still on, 
when King gasped out, “Look at that!” <A 
dark spot was moving on the snowahead. We 
put onspeed. Another dark spot appeared, and 
another, but they were not going fast. In five 
minutes we were near them, to find—three of 
our own Greyhounds. They had lost sight of 
the game, and with that their interest waned. 
Now they were seeking us. We saw nothing 
there of the chase or of the other hunters. But 
hastening to the next ridge we stumbled on the 
trail we sought and followed as hard as though 
in view. Another cafion came in our path, and 
as we rode and looked for a place to cross, a wild 
din of Hounds came from its brushy depth. 
The clamor grew and passed up the middle. 
We raced along the rim, hoping to see the 
game. The Dogs appeared near the farther 
side, not ina pack, but a long, straggling line. 
eth 
