"Reckon as how that kivers the ground purty well," replied the cowman,
grimly.
"Well," Frank went on, "we happen to believe something different, and
we mean to look into the thing a bit. It wouldn't surprise me to find
that some sharp crowd has been taking advantage of the bad name Thunder
Mountain has always had, to hide among those canyons. And, Hank, I'm
going to look for the trail of some cattle while I'm there!"
"Which I take it to mean," Hank continued thoughtfully, "that you
kinder think them rustlers might be usin' the ha'nted mounting for a
hiding place to keep the cows which they run away with? Um! wa'al now,
I never thort o' that afore. But stands to reason no Mexicans'd ever
have the nerve to go whar white cowmen kept away from."
"Not unless they had solved the strange mystery of the mountain, and no
longer saw any reason to be afraid of the thunder. But listen while I
tell you something else that happened to my friend here."
Frank then described the sudden bolt of Domino. At his first words the
experienced western man looked wise. He had immediately guessed what
caused the unexpected action of the usually tractable black horse.
"As low down a trick as was ever carried out," he remarked, finally, as
he looked at the thorn. "And jest sech as thet sneakin' coyote,
Spanish Joe, would be guilty of tryin'. I've seen it done more'n a few
times; and twict the critter was rounded up, and treated like he'd been
a hoss thief; 'case ye see, in each case 'twar a woman as rid the
animile as got the thorn.
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