Fringing the
plain on the north was a range of hills that swept back to the
mountains that guarded the neck of the big basin at Okar.
There was timber on the hills, and the sky line was ragged with
boulders. And so Sanderson and his men, glancing northward many times
during the morning, did not see a rider who made his way through the
hills.
During the previous afternoon the rider had sat on his horse in the dim
haze of distance, watching the Double A outfit round up its cattle; and
during the night he had stood on guard, watching the men around the
camp fire.
He had seen most of the Double A men return toward the ranchhouse after
the trail crew had been selected; he had followed the progress of the
herd during the morning.
At noon he halted in a screen of timber and grinned felinely.
"They're off, for certain," he said aloud.
Late that afternoon the man was in Okar, talking with Dale and
Silverthorn and Maison.
"What you've been expectin' has happened," he told them. "Sanderson,
Carter, an' six men are on the move with a trail herd.
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