If th' last herds go wild they'll pick up th' others, an' then there'll be th' devil to pay." Frenchy smiled again and shot a glance at where Mr.Trendley was bound to the cabin wall.
Buck looked steadily southward for some time and then flecked a foam-sud from the flank of his horse.

"We are goin' south along th' Creek until we gets to Big Spring, where we'll turn right smart to th' west.

We won't be able to average more'n twelve miles a day, 'though I'm goin' to drive them hard.

How's yore grub ?" "Grub to burn." "Got yore rope ?" Asked the foreman of the Bar-20, speaking as if the question had no especial meaning.
Frenchy smiled: "Yes." Hopalong absent-mindedly jabbed his spurs into his mount with the result that when the storm had subsided the spell was broken and he said "So long," and rode south, followed by Buck and Red.

As they swept out of sight behind a grove Red turned in his saddle and waved his hat.