"That's what comes of working for a woman," he growled. "No
peace. No rest. Work day and night. And if you ain't kept working you're
just kept worried. It's hell!"
He clumped to the door and cast it open.
"Well?" he called into the darkness.
"Every one out!" cried Marianne. "The mares have broken through the gate
and stampeded!"
CHAPTER X
THE THIEF
They came with a rush, at that. The mares the girl prized so highly
were, in the phrase of the cowpunchers, "high-headed fools" incapable
of taking care of themselves. Running wild through the night, as likely
as not they would cut themselves to pieces on the first barbed wired
fence that blocked their way. With such a thought to urge them,
Marianne's hired men caught their fastest mounts and saddled like
lightning. There was a play of ropes and curses in the big corral, the
scuffle of leather as saddle after saddle flopped into place, and then a
stream of dim riders darted through the corral gate.
All of this, dazed by the misfortune, Marianne waited to see, but as the
first of the pursuers darted out of sight she turned and ran to the box
stall where she kept her favorite pony, a nimble bay, inimitable on a
mountain trail and with plenty of foot on the flat.
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