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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Desert Gold"


"Aw, hell, no! Jim, what do you think?" implored Belding.
"I reckon Sol's white head is pointed level an' straight
down the Casita trail. An' Nell can ride. We're losing' time."
That roused Belding to action.
"I say you're all wrong," he yelled, starting for the corrals.
"She's only taking a little ride, same as she's done often. But
rustle now. Find out. Dick, you ride cross the valley. Jim, you
hunt up and down the river. I'll head up San Felipe way. And you,
Laddy, take Diablo and hit the Casita trail. If she really has gone
after Thorne you can catch her in an hour or so."
"Shore I'll go," replied Ladd. "But, Beldin', if you're not plumb
crazy you're close to it. That big white devil can't catch Sol.
Not in an hour or a day or a week! What's more, at the end of any
runnin' time, with an even start, Sol will be farther in the lead.
An' now Sol's got an hour's start."
"Laddy, you mean to say Sol is a faster horse than Diablo?"
thundered Belding, his face purple.
"Shore. I mean to tell you just that there," replied the ranger.
"I'll--I'll bet a--"
"We're wastin' time," curtly interrupted Ladd. "You can gamble
on this if you want to. I'll ride your Blanco Devil as he never
was rid before, 'cept once when a damn sight better hossman
than I am couldn't make him outrun Sol."
Without more words the men saddled and were off, not waiting for
the Yaqui to come in with possible information as to what trail
Blanco Sol had taken.


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