With an uneasy jerk Tex tore open the envelope the major handed him. He was not used to getting letters and this one was postmarked at the state prison. He fished out a single sheet of paper and stared at it. The major had read the postmark and stood waiting for Tex to speak.

There was a brief line at the beginning of the letter. The message was from Sam and the warden had written the letter for him. Tex turned away from the major and walked down to the horse corral before he read any further. He wanted to be alone. Leaning over the pole gate he finished the letter. The message was brief, very much like Sam. Tex’s lips moved as he repeated the words to himself.

“I put off writin’ figurin’ to see you. Reckon I won’t, so the warden is writin’ this to you. They got a buryin’ spot down here they call Woodpecker Hill. It’s good enough fer an old gopher miner but I still got a hankerin’ to get back to the top of the world. If it won’t put you out too much, Tex, I’d like to be planted near the ledge trail at the foot of the castle rocks. Jest lift the rock under the right front leg of the stove and you’ll find a poke of dust I cached. There’ll be enough in it to do the job. I want you should keep what’s left over. Figure I’ll hang on till I get a letter back from you. The doc says no, but I’ve fooled ’em before. Sam.”

Tex folded the sheet into a wad and shoved it into the pocket of his chaps. He stared for a long time through the white sunlight. His bay gelding came over to the fence and nudged his arm. Tex turned around.

“We shore let old Sam down,” he said grimly. “But this time we’ll not flop on him.”

He reached over and caught the horn of his saddle which was tossed across the top pole of the corral. As he was jerking the cinch tight around the belly of the bay a few minutes later, the major’s shadow appeared near the gate. Tex did not turn around. He did not feel like telling the major anything. The last time he had tried to talk to him about getting Sam freed his boss had been irritated and short in his refusal. Tex had a feeling the major even believed he had invented the story about the black stud, with the help of Shorty, in order to get his sympathy. The major watched in silence until Tex faced the gate, then he spoke.

“I want to have a look at the new stock. You can ride into the aspen range with me and show me around.”

Tex nodded. There was no use in writing to Sam now. The mail would not be picked up until the next day. He could take a couple of days off and ride in, but he didn’t feel equal to facing the old man after the way he had let him down.

By midafternoon the pair were high in the aspen country and close to the spruce belt. Tex had taken the major to the meadows where the new stock grazed. They had halted on a ridge as the major had a way of doing and were gazing over the vast country below. The major always got a thrill out of looking over his vast domain. He never tired of the rolling foothills and the wide, grassy valleys, all his.

Tex could see the high mesa on the rim of Shadow Canyon. He could see the castle rocks where Sam wanted to be planted. A desire to ride down to the spot laid hold of him. He could get the poke of gold while he was there. When the major was ready to move on, Tex headed down the slope. Within an hour they broke out on the high meadow. The major looked across at Tex questioningly but said nothing. He knew none of the new stock were run that far south. But he was more interested in the letter Tex had got than he cared to show and was sure this visit had something to do with it. He feared the old man had died in prison, and the thought stirred the old train of doubts as to the course he had followed.

They rode down to the castle rocks before going to the cabin. Tex dismounted and stood at the base of the rocks where Sam had said he wanted to lie. When he looked over the expanse of country below he knew why Sam had picked this spot. From the ledge he could see far across the hazy lower valley to the distant peaks of the Sleepy Range, while on the right he could look out over the purple expanse of the desert with its spires and red rims gleaming in the late sunlight. At his feet yawned Shadow Canyon. From its twilight depths came the rumble of a rushing stream. The music rose and fell in steady cadence. Tex drew in his breath sharply and turned toward the major.

As he turned a flash of movement below caught his eye. He stepped closer to the canyon rim and looked down on a little meadow. At first he saw nothing but a little beaver lake, a grove of aspens, and a stand of spruce. Then a black horse flashed out of the timber running madly. Close on his heels came a pinto filly. They were heading straight at a barrier of logs. They reached the barrier and lifted like birds, sailing over it easily. Their manes and tails flowed out as they pounded along.

“Look!” Tex called hoarsely as he pointed downward.

The major slid from his horse and stood beside Tex. The flying horses had vanished into the aspen grove and Tex grunted disgustedly. In a moment they appeared again and took the log barrier in a mad leap. Both men stood in silence watching the big black stallion as he cleared the barrier and raced away. The horses vanished but appeared again as they charged around the little circle below. Then they vanished and did not appear again.

For a long minute the two men faced each other. It was the major who spoke.

“Tex,” he said gruffly, “I’m a stubborn fool.” He held out his hand. “Let me see that letter you got from the state prison.”

Tex dug out the letter and handed it to him. The major read it quickly. When he had finished he folded it carefully and handed it back to Tex. Relief and eagerness showed on his face, as he turned toward his horse.

“We’ll ride for the ranch. If I hit the trail hard enough I can catch the midnight train at Painted Rocks.”

Tex grinned. He said nothing, but he was in his saddle before the major reached his horse.