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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Quirt"

But there's
another horse track."
Lone bit his lip. It was the other horse that Jack had been trailing so
long. "There was a loose horse hanging around Thurman's place," he said
casually. "It's him, tagging along, I reckon."
"Oh," said Hawkins. "That accounts for it."


CHAPTER NINETEEN
SWAN CALLS FOR HELP

Past the field where the horses were grazing and up the canyon on the
side toward Skyline Meadow, that lay on a shoulder of Bear Top, the dog
nosed unfalteringly along the trail. Now and then he was balked when the
hoofprints led him to the bank of Granite Creek, but not for long. Jack
appeared to understand why his trailing was interrupted and sniffed the
bank until he picked up the scent again.
"Wonder if she changed off and rode that loose horse," Hawkins said
once, when the tracks were plain in the soft soil of the creek bank.
"She might, and lead that horse she was on."
"She wouldn't know enough. She's a city girl," Lone replied, his heart
heavy with fear for Lorraine.
"Well, she ain't far off then," Hawkins comforted himself. "Her horse
acted about played out when she hit the ranch.


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