The Red Mustang
Cal was silent for a moment, but a terrible thought had flashed into his mind. The ranch was his home.
"Sam," he said, in a changed, anxious voice, "is there any danger to them? I could dodge these fellows. I could carry the warning."
"I'd never answer to your father for letting you run any risk, Cal. You're perfectly safe here, but it might be an awful race to Saint Lucy."
Sam Herrick's idea of perfect safety was all his own, but Cal responded:
"I'd be just as safe on Dick's back. There isn't a horse in New Mexico--"
"I know," said Sam, "but a bullet or an arrer 'll out-travel any hoss living. If you could ride along under cover, to the left, 'bout half a mile, and set off behind the herd, without their sighting you--"
"Yes," said Cal, "but why can't you come along and get to the ranch with me?"
"My name's Sam Herrick, and I never went back on myself since I was born. Colon