“It’s one on me,” remarked Billy.  “That little mare played us at the finish.  Caught when she was a yearling, broken better than any mustang we ever had, she has helped us run down many a stallion, and now she runs off with that big white-maned brute!”

“They’ll make a team, and if they get out of here we’ll have to chase them to the Great Salt Basin,” replied Dave.

“Mescal, that’s a well-behaved mustang of yours,” said August; “not only did she break loose, but she whistled an alarm to Silvermane and his band.  Well, roll in now, everybody, and sleep.”

At breakfast the following day the Naabs fell into a discussion upon the possibility of there being other means of exit from the plateau than the two trails already closed.  They had never run any mustangs on the plateau, and in the case of a wild horse like Silvermane, who would take desperate chances, it was advisable to know the ground exactly.  Billy and Dave taking their mounts from the sheep-corral, where they had put them up for the night, rode in opposite directions around the rim of the plateau.  It was triangular in shape, and some six or seven miles in circumference; and the brothers rode around it in less than an hour.

“Corralled,” said Dave, laconically.

“Good!  Did you see him?  What kind of a bunch has he with him?” asked his father.

“If we get the pick of the lot it will be worth two weeks’ work,” replied Dave.  “I saw him, and Bolly, too.  I believe we can catch her easily.  She was off from the bunch, and it looks as though the mares were jealous.  I think we can run her into a cove under the wall, and get her.  Then Mescal can help us run down the stallion.  And you can look out on this end for the best level stretch to drop the line of cedars and make our trap.”

The brothers, at their father’s nod, rode off into the forest.  Naab had detained the peon, and now gave him orders and sent him off.

“To-night you can stand on the rim here, and watch him signal across to the top of Echo Cliffs to the Navajos,” explained August to Jack.  “I’ve sent for the best breaker of wild mustangs on the desert.  Dave can break mustangs, and Piute is very good; but I want the best man in the country, because this is a grand horse, and I intend to give him to you.”

“To me!” exclaimed Hare.

“Yes, and if he’s broken right at the start, he’ll serve you faithfully, and not try to bite your arm off every day, or kick your brains out.  No white man can break a wild mustang to the best advantage.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know.  To be truthful, I have an idea it’s bad temper and lack of patience.  Just wait till you see this Navajo go at Silvermane!”

After Mescal and Piute drove down the sheep, Jack accompanied Naab to the corral.

“I’ve brought up your saddle,” said Naab, “and you can put it on any mustang here.”