horse. Cheyenne pulled up and talked with the Indian. The latter
grinned, nodded, and, jerking his pony round, rode after the horses as
they drifted ahead. Bartley saw the Apache bunch the animals again, and
turn them off the road toward the hills.

"Didn't expect to meet up with luck, so soon," declared Cheyenne. "I
figured to turn Sneed's hosses loose when I'd got 'em far enough from
the ranch. But that Injun'll take care of 'em. Sneed ain't popular with
the Apaches. Sneed's cabin is right clost to the res'avation line."

"What will the Indian do with the horses?" queried Bartley.

"Most like trade 'em to his friends."

Bartley gestured toward a spot of green far across the valley. "Looks
like a town," he said.

"San Andreas--and that's where we stop, to-night. No campin' in the
brush for me while Sneed is ridin' the country lookin' for his stock. It
wouldn't be healthy."






CHAPTER XVI

SAN ANDREAS TOWN