You didn't think real cowboys
dolled up like that, did you? You did? My Gawd! But that other
bird--look at him! Sure--smoking his cigarette as if nothing had
happened. Bet he rolls 'em with one hand! Bet he rolls 'em with one
hand, going at a gallop! And dressed for business all the while!
Gentlemen, you're looking at a cowboy!"

And the wise one--the one who had been in Cheyenne during Frontier
Week--capped it all, nonchalantly. He'd never hoped to have such a
happy chance to display his vocabulary.

"One bad hombre," he declared. "One bad hombre!"

Oh, but they were loquacious! They forgot the heat and delay; they
would have risen to a man and gone out to him who sat, back toward
them, on the timber base of the tank, only they were afraid that the
train might pull out without them. So they had to be content with
watching him while they continued to tell each other what good offhand
judges of human nature they were.

Not so, however, in the private car at the end of the row of coaches.
No noise had come from its occupants during even the worst, or the
best, of it. First tense attention and then when it was over and the
superintendent had ridden away, three pairs of eyes which, turned upon
each other, were startled, questioning.

One of the men was tall and fat, and prosperous to the casual eye, as
he most surely must have been offensive to the fastidious. One of them
was short and fat, with pointed ears that made him look quite
fox-faced. And the other was a reporter. From his appearance one
would have said I hope, and truly, that only pursuit of his calling
could have brought him in such company.

These three, then, sat for a time and looked eloquently at each other.
They were not loquacious about it, not verbally; and finally the tall
fat one heaved himself from his seat.

"I've got a hunch," he declared, "and God never forgives a man who
doesn't ride one." Certainly he was a strange person to be mentioning
God so complacently.

"Pull the bell cord if that fool engineer tries to start without me."
And he left the car.

So presently another shadow fell athwart Blue Jeans' lap. He did not
bother to raise his head this time, however; he was nursing a bruised
hand and craved solitude. The fat man stood and looked down at him
until he realized that the other was likely never to look up, unless he
did something besides impose his plainly unwelcome presence upon him.
Therefore he cleared his th