"Straight ahead."

Cheyenne hesitated, hoping that Sneed would take the lead. But the
mountain man merely gestured again and followed Cheyenne through a patch
of timber, and across another meadow--and Cheyenne caught a glimpse of
the ridge of a cabin roof, and smoke above it. Close to the cabin was a
large pole corral. Cheyenne saw the backs of Filaree and Joshua, among
the other horses, long before he came to the corral. Yet, not wishing to
appear too eager, he said nothing until he arrived at the corner of the
fence.

Then he turned and pointed. "Them's my hosses--the gray and the
buckskin. I'm mighty glad you caught 'em up."

Sneed nodded. "One of my boys found them in with a bunch of my stock and
run them in here."

A few rods from the corral stood the cabin, larger than Cheyenne had
imagined, and built of heavy logs, with a wide-roofed porch running
across the entire front. On the veranda lay several saddles. Tied to the
hitch rail stood two chunky mountain ponies that showed signs of recent
hard use.

Cheyenne smiled as he turned toward Sneed. "You got a mighty snug
homestead up here, neighbor."

"Tie your horse and step in," invited Sneed.

"He'll stand," said Cheyenne, dismounting and dropping the reins.