They're headed
straight on for Las Vegas."
Silverthorn rubbed the palms of his hands together, Maison smirked, and
Dale's eyes glowed with satisfaction.
Dale got up and looked at the man who had brought the information.
"All right, Morley," he said with a grin. "Get going; we'll meet up
with Sanderson at Devil's Hole."
CHAPTER XIX
A QUESTION OF BRANDS
Trailing a herd of cattle through a strange wild country is no
sinecure. There was not a man in the Double A outfit who expected an
easy time in trailing the herd to Las Vegas, for it was a rough, grim
country, and the men were experienced.
Wild cattle are not tractable; they have an irritating habit of
obstinately insisting on finding their own trail, and of persisting in
vagaries that are the despair of their escort.
The Double A herd was no exception. On a broad level they behaved
fairly well, though always requiring the attention of the men; but in
the broken sections of country through which they passed,
heart-breaking effort was required of the men to keep them headed in
the right direction.
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