beside the fire.

Cheyenne stooped and picked up the dice. "Was you rattlin' the bones to
see if you could beat yourself?"

"I found them here. Are they yours?"

"Nope. And they weren't here last evenin'."

Cheyenne turned and strode out to the road while Bartley made breakfast.
Cheyenne was gone a long time, examining the tracks of horses. When he
returned he squatted down and ate.

Presently he rose. "First off, I thought they might 'a' been some stray
Apaches or Cholas. But they don't pack dice. And the bunch that rode by
last night was ridin' shod bosses."

Bartley turned slowly toward his companion. "Panhandle?" he queried.

"And these here dice? Looks like it. It's like him to leave them dice
for us to play with while he trails south with our stack. I reckon it
was that Dobe hoss he was after. But he must 'a' knowed who was campin'
around here. You see, when Wishful kind of hinted to Panhandle to leave
town, Panhandle figured that meant to stay out of Antelope quite a
spell. First off he steals some hosses. Next thing, he'll sell 'em or
trade 'em, down south of here. He'll travel nights, mostly."

"I can't see why he should especially pick us out as his victims," said
Bartley.