Shorty was a better judge of distance than the cattle.  For it was afternoon when the last of the herd reached the level floor of the basin.  They spread out, to graze industriously; the men not caring, knowing they would not stray far from such a wealth of grass.

By the time the chuck-wagon had come to a halt and the cook had clambered stiffly from his seat to prepare the noonday meal, Lawler and the others saw the horse-wrangler and his assistant descending the long slope with the remuda.  The horses had fallen far behind, and Lawler rode to meet them, curious to know what had happened.

When he rode up, the horse-wrangler, a man named Garvin—­a stocky individual with keen, inquiring eyes—­advanced to meet him.

“Boss,” he said, shortly; “there’s somethin’ mighty wrong goin’ on behind us.  Me an’ Ed—­my helper—­has been kind of hangin’ back, bein’ sort of curious.  They’s a bunch of ornery-lookin’ guys trailin’ us.  I first saw ’em after we’d struck the bottom of that canon.  They was just comin’ around that big bend, an’ I saw ’em.  They lit out, turnin’ tail—­mebbe figurin’ I hadn’t seen ’em; but pretty soon I seen ’em again, sort of sneakin’ behind us.  I reckon if they was square guys they wouldn’t be sneakin’ like that—­eh?”

CHAPTER XIV

Lawler’s “Nerve”

When Lawler spoke to Blackburn regarding the news that had been communicated to him by the horse-wrangler, Blackburn suggested that himself and several of the Circle L men ride back to ascertain the object of the trailers.

“We’ll ride back an’ make ’em talk!” he declared, heatedly.

Lawler, however, would not agree, telling Blackburn that the trail was free, and that, until the men made some hostile move, there was no reason why they should be approached.

So the men ate, selected new mounts from their “strings” in the remuda, and again started the big herd forward.

Lawler rode for a time with Garvin, keeping an alert eye on the back trail.  But though he could see far up the canon, where the trail—­white with dust from the passing of the herd—­wound its sinuous way upward into the dark recesses between the towering mesa walls, he could see no sign of life or movement.

The nonappearance of the mysterious riders was suspicious, for if their intentions were friendly they would have come boldly on.  In fact, if they were abroad upon an honest errand, they must have found the slowness of the herd ahead of them irksome; and they would have passed it as soon as possible, merely to escape the dust cloud raised by the cattle.

When the afternoon began to wane the herd was far out in the basin, traveling steadily toward a point where the little river doubled, where Blackburn intended to camp for the night.  And though both Blackburn and Lawler scanned the back trail intently at intervals, there was still no sign of the riders Garvin had mentioned.