CHAPTER V
THE HUNT ON LOST CHIEF
"A guy that don't rustle cattle when the rustling is good, is a fool."
ONE hot afternoon in August Douglas had just unhitched the panting team from the plow in the new oat field when Charleton Falkner trotted up on Democrat.
"How's the fall plowing, Doug?"
"Just out of the woods, Charleton."
"Your father says he can spare you for a day or two. I wish you'd come down to my place to-night. I'm planning a trip. I don't suppose John would loan you Beauty for a couple of days?"
Douglas shook his head.
"Well," Charleton went on, "I guess Buster can stand up under the work."
"Buster belongs to Judith now. I've been trying to get time to break that dapple gray Young Jeff gave me, after the trial. He's a good horse. Darned if I don't think I can ride him now!"
"I know that horse and he is a good one," agreed Charleton. "Ride the young moose if you can stick on him. You'll need all his wind and limb on this trip!" and Charleton trotted away.
It was full starlight that night when Douglas freed his feet from the stirrups before Charleton's door and jumped like lightning from the saddle. His horse
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