"No, sir--it's Rock I've got to see first," he concluded. "But Lord only
knows where I'll find him; Rock never does camp twice in the same place.
Never knew him to stay more than a month with one outfit. But I'll find
him, all right!"
And by one of those odd twists of circumstances which sets men to
wondering if there is such a thing as telepathy and a specifically
guiding hand and the like, it was Rock and none other whom he met fairly
in the trail before he had gone another mile.
"Well, I'll be gol darned!" Ford whispered incredulously to himself, and
pulled up short in the trail to wait for him.
Rock came loping up with elbows flapping loosely, as was his ungainly
habit. His grin was wide and golden as of yore, his hat at the same
angle over his right eyebrow.
"Gawd bless you, brother! May peace ride behind your cantle!" he
declaimed unctuously, for Rock was a character, in his way, and in his
speech was not in the least like other men. "Whither wendest thou?"
"My wending is all over for the present," said Ford, wheeling his horse
short around, that he might ride alongside the other.
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