“Nothin’ easier.  I could find ’em blindfold.  First due out they’s McCauley’s.  Then lay a bit west of north and you hit the Circle K Bar—­that’s about twelve mile from McCauley’s.  Hit ’er up dead north again, by east, and you come eight miles to Three Roads.  Go on to—­”

“Partner,” cut in Daniels, “I could do business with you.”

“Maybe you could.”

“My name’s Daniels.”

“I’m Gary Peters.  H’ware you?”

They shook hands.

“Peters,” said Buck Daniels, “you look square, and I need you in square game; but there ain’t any questions that go with it.  Twenty iron men for one day’s riding and one day’s silence.”

“M’frien’,” murmured Peters.  “In my day I’ve gone three months without speakin’ to anything in boots; and I wasn’t hired for it, neither.”

“You know them people up the line,” said Daniels.  “Do they know you?”

“I’ll tell a man they do!  Know Gary Peters?”

“Partner, this is what I want.  I want you to leave Brownsville inside of ten minutes and start riding for Elkhead.  I want you to ride, and I want you to ride like hell.  Every ten miles, or so, I want you to stop at some place where you can get a fresh hoss.  Get your fresh hoss and leave the one you’ve got off, and tell them to have the hoss you leave ready for me any time to-night.  It’ll take you clear till to-morrow night to reach Elkhead, even with relayin’ your hosses?”

“Round about that, if I ride like hell.  What do I take with me?”

“Nothing.  Nothing but the coin I give you to hire someone at every stop to have that hoss you’ve left ready for me.  Better still, if you can have ’em, get a fresh hoss.  Would they trust you with hosses that way, Gary?”

“Gimme the coin and where they won’t trust me I’ll pay cash.”

“I can do it.  It’ll about bust me, but I can do it.”

“You going to try for a record between Brownsville and Elkhead, eh?  Got a bet up, eh?”

“The biggest bet you ever heard of,” said Daniels grimly.  “You can tell the boys along the road that I’m tryin’ for time.  Have you got a fast hoss to start with?”

“Got a red mare that ain’t much for runnin’ cattle, but she’s greased lightnin’ for a short bust.”

“Then get her out.  Saddle her up, and be on your way.  Here’s my stake—­I’ll keep back one twenty for accidents.  First gimme a list of the places you’ll stop for the relays.”

He produced an old envelope and a stub of soft pencil with which he jotted down Gary Peters’ directions.

“And every second,” said Buck Daniels in parting, “that you can cut off your own time will be a second cut off’n mine.  Because I’m liable to be on your heels when you ride into Elkhead.”

Gary Peters lifted his eyebrows and then restored his pipe.  He spoke through his teeth.

“You ain’t got a piece of money to bet on that, partner?” he queried softly.