Not a live creature was to be seen about the place, neither man, woman,
nor beast.
"Cheerful-looking prospect for Christmas," Ted continued to soliloquize,
as those who travel or ride on mountain or plain in solitude often get
in the habit of doing.
"Wonder where the folks are?" he continued. "Hope they got here all
right. But, of course, they did. Bud is too good a leader to let them
get off the trail. Besides, they have been long enough on the way to
have got here and back again." Again he paused, musing.
"Well, Sultan, old chap, it has been a long, dry drive, hasn't it?"
Sultan, on hearing his name, gave a toss of his head and a soft snicker,
and Ted's hand passed gently over his beautiful, glossy mane with a
caressing gesture.
"Hello, here comes some one. Wonder who it is. That's the only sign of
life, except a few rattlesnakes and horned toads I've seen since I left
the railroad at San Carlos."
Shading his eyes from the sun, Ted looked for several minutes at the
dark speck bobbing along in the distance, a mere shadow against the
yellow surface of the earth.
"He's taking his time," muttered Ted. "Reckon he's wondering who I am,
and what I'm standing here for. It can't be one of our fellows. I guess
I'll just wait for him to come up and say howdy."
There was a faint trail, or road, which skirted Sombrero Peak, the mass
of multicolored rock at Ted's back, over which he had come on his way
from San Carlos to the Bubbly Well ranch house, which he was now facing
in the distance.
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