The cabin was within easy water-carrying distance of the river, which was fringed with heavy timber and thick underbrush. Rusty saw cow tracks leading off in that direction. He saw boot tracks as well.

He told Gaskin, “Since you don’t know anything about that cow, we’ll be movin’ along.”

“You-all come back sometime.” The tone of Gaskin’s voice said that he hoped they never would.

Rusty and Tanner circled around and came into the timber downriver, where Gaskin was unlikely to see them. They rode along the edge of the water, back in the direction of the cabin. If they found what Rusty expected, it would not be far from the pens. Fowler Gaskin was not likely to walk any farther than necessary.

He found the spotted cow staked on a long rope that allowed her room to graze and to reach the water. She gave the horsemen a docile bovine stare as Rusty dismounted and looked her over. Examining her udder, he noted that the teats showed small tooth marks.

“Just about lamb size,” he muttered. He assumed that Gaskin had been staking the cow out of sight and leading her up to the pen for the dogie lambs to suckle.

Tanner said, “I’ll bet that old heifer put up a fight the first time or two he put them lambs on her.”

“Probably thought they were the funniest-lookin’ calves she ever saw. That’s what the stanchion was for, so he could tie her up good and tight ‘I’ll she got used to the lambs.”

The rope was attached to a strong sapling. Rusty untied it, coiled it, and got back on the horse. The cow followed him as he put Alamo up the riverbank and across a narrow strip of pasture.

At the front of the cabin he hollered for Gaskin. The old man came out, his jaw slack with disappointment as he saw the cow.

Tanner shouted, “Look what we found down yonder. She somehow got a rope around her neck and tied it to a tree.”

Whatever Gaskin was trying to say, it caught in his throat.

Rusty said, “It’s about time them lambs were weaned onto grass, don’t you think?”

Gaskin found voice, and it was shrill. “I’ll have the sheriff on you, takin’ a man’s cow.”

“I’ll go tell him myself and save you the trip.”

Gaskin turned and reached back through the cabin door and brought out the long rifle.

Len asked, “You don’t reckon that old man’s crazy enough to fire that thing at us, do you?”

Rusty had not considered that Gaskin might actually be crazy. The notion was not far-fetched. “I sure wouldn’t stop and ask him.” He spurred Alamo and forced horse and cow into a long trot.