"It's my turn," said Dell. "I know how to build a smudge fire; build it
in a circle, out of cattle chips, in the middle of the road."

"You're a willing boy," said Priest, handing the bridle reins to Dell,
"but we'll wait until Joel returns. You may water my horse and turn him
in the corral."

The day wore on, and near the middle of the afternoon Joel came riding
in. He had waited fully an hour after the departure of the herd, a flag
had been left unfurled at the junction, and all other instructions
delivered. Both Forrest and Priest knew the distance to the ford on the
Republican, and could figure to an hour, by different saddle gaits, the
necessary time to cover the distance, even to Culbertson. Still there
was a measure of uncertainty: the messenger might have lost his way;
there might not have been any physician within call; accidents might
have happened to horse or rider,--and one hour wore away, followed
by another.

Against his will, Dell was held under restraint until six o'clock. "It's
my intention to follow him within an hour," said the foreman, as the boy
rounded a bluff and disappeared. "He can build the fire as well as any
one, and we'll return before midnight. That'll give the doctor the last
minute and the benefit of every doubt."

The foreman's mount stood saddled, and twilight had settled over the
valley, when the occupants of the tent were startled by the neigh of a
horse. "That's Rowdy," said Forrest; "he always nickers when he sights a
wagon or camp. Dell's come."