"Then," said Courthorne dryly, "here it is. We are running a big load
through to the northern settlements and the reserves to-morrow, and
while there's a good deal of profit attached to the venture, I have a
notion that Sergeant Stimson has had word of it. Now, the Sergeant
knows just how I stand with the rustlers though he can fasten no charge
on me, and he will have several of his troopers looking out for me.
Well, I want one of them to see and follow me south along the Montana
trail. There's no horse in the Government service can keep pace with
that black of mine, but it would not be difficult to pull him and just
keep the trooper out of carbine-shot behind. When he finds he can't
overtake the black, he'll go off for his comrades, and the boys will
run our goods across the river while they're picking up the trail."

"You mentioned the horse, but not yourself," said Winston quietly.

Courthorne laughed. "Yes," he said. "I will not be there. I'm
offering you one hundred dollars to ride the black for me. You can put
my furs on, and anybody who saw you and knew the horse would certify it
was me."

"And where will you be?"

"Here," said Courthorne dryly. "The boys will have no use for me until
they want a guide, but they'll leave an unloaded pack horse handy, and,
as it wouldn't suit any of us to make my connection with them too
plain, it will be a night or two later when I join them. In the
meanwhile your part's quite easy. No trooper could ride you down
unless you wanted him to, and you'll ride straight on to Montana--I've
a route marked out for you. You'll stop at the places I tell you, and