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handing him the postal card. Coberly scanned it intently and a change came over his face. 'Why didn't you show me this at first? Of course you can have the horse. Hey there, some of you boys! Round up the horses and rope Star for Mr. Waring. Jump lively now!'
"Eight o'clock found twenty-three miles behind Star's nimble feet, and the Bar Triangle Ranch in sight. It lacked twenty minutes to ten o'clock when Waring drew rein at the foot of the great divide, the railroad station still fifteen miles away. He unsaddled Star and turned him into a corral for an hour's rest to put new life into him. At a quarter past ten Star, refreshed by rubbing and water, was carrying him up the road. Up, up, they went, mile after mile, towards the snowy summit of the pass. Two miles from the top Waring dismounted and led his panting horse along the icy trail. He still had twelve miles to go, seven of which were down the steepest road in the state. Could he make it? He must. He stopped and anxiously examined his horse. He had plenty of life and energy yet. Waring was again in the saddle and racing down the dangerous path. Almost sitting on his haunches, Star would fairly slide down the hill, and recover his footing at the bottom. At last they came to a level road. A horseman approached and whipped out a six-shooter. 'Hold up there. I want to talk to you. I'm the sheriff and I want to know what you're doing with Joe Coberly's horse.'
" 'Why, I've been working for Coberly, and he lent me the horse to ride over here and catch the train.'
" 'Hold on there, young man; that air won't do at all. I know old Joe, and I know he wouldn't lend that horse to his own brother, let alone one of his cow-punchers. I guess I'll have to lock you up till the boys come over.'
" 'Look here, Mr. Sheriff, I'm telling you God's truth. Coberly let me take the horse because it was the only one