Jack peered out into the shadowy space, star-studded above, ebony below.  Far across the depths shone a pinpoint of steady light.  The Indian grunted again, August vented his “ha!” and then Jack saw the light blink like a star, go out for a second, and blink again.

“That’s what I like to see,” said August.  “We’re answered.  Now all’s over but the work.”

Work it certainly was, as Jack discovered next day.  He helped the brothers cut down cedars while August hauled them into line with his roan.  What with this labor and the necessary camp duties nearly a week passed, and in the mean time Black Bolly recovered from her lameness.

Twice the workers saw Silvermane standing on open high ridges, restive and suspicious, with his silver mane flying, and his head turned over his shoulder, watching, always watching.

“It’d be worth something to find out how long that stallion could go without water,” commented Dave.  “But we’ll make his tongue hang out to-morrow.  It’d serve him right to break him with Black Bolly.”

Daylight came warm and misty; veils unrolled from the desert; a purple curtain lifted from the eastern crags; then the red sun burned.

Dave and Billy Naab mounted their mustangs, and each led another mount by a halter.

“We’ll go to the ridge, cut Silvermane out of his band and warm him up; then we’ll drive him down to this end.”

Hare, in his eagerness, found the time very tedious while August delayed about camp, punching new holes in his saddle-girth, shortening his stirrups, and smoothing kinks out of his lasso.  At last he saddled the roan, and also Black Bolly.  Mescal came out of her tent ready for the chase; she wore a short skirt of buckskin, and leggings of the same material.  Her hair, braided, and fastened at the back, was bound by a double band closely fitting her black head.  Hare walked, leading two mustangs by the halters, and Naab and Mescal rode, each of them followed by two other spare mounts.  August tied three mustangs at one point along the level stretch, and three at another.  Then he led Mescal and Jack to the top of the stone wall above the corral, where they had good view of a considerable part of the plateau.

The eastern rise of ground, a sage and juniper slope, was in plain sight.  Hare saw a white flash; then Silvermane broke out of the cedars into the sage.  One of the brothers raced him half the length of the slope, and then the other coming out headed him off down toward the forest.  Soon the pounding of hoofs sounded through the trees nearer and nearer.  Silvermane came out straight ahead on the open level.  He was running easily.

“He hasn’t opened up yet,” said August.

Hare watched the stallion with sheer fascination; He ran seemingly without effort.  What a stride he had.  How beautifully his silver mane waved in the wind!  He veered off to the left, out of sight in the brush, while Dave and Billy galloped up to the spot where August had tied the first three mustangs.  Here they dismounted, changed saddles to fresh horses, and were off again.