t they don't never get over here. Break their
backs comin' through the gap. Yes, sir!"

"Then I'll just june along in the cool of the evenin'," observed Pete,
ladling out a second helping of jerked venison. "I can follow your wagon
tracks into town. I ain't never been to Silverbell. Was afraid I might
miss it in the dark. How far is it? About twenty mile, I reckon?"

"Just about. Shucks! I was in hopes you'd stay overnight with us. Bill
and me, we ain't seen no one since Columbus crossed the Delaware in
fourteen-ninety-two. Can't ye, now?" urged the tall man coaxingly. "We'll
pitch horseshoes--play cards if you want to; only Bill and me's pretty
well burnt out at cards. Fox and geese too--ever play fox and geese?
We got a dandy fox-and-goose board--but Bill, he natcherly can't play.
He's from California, Bill is."

"Aw, shut up on that!" growled Bill.

"Sorry," said Pete, "I'm pushed. Got to go on to-night. Want to take that
train at seven-thirty in the morning, and a small sleep for myself before
that. Maybe I'll stop over as I come back, though. Fine feed you got
here. Makes a jim-darter of a horse camp."

"Yes, 'tis. We aim to keep the cattle shoved off so we can save the grass
for the saddle ponies."

"Must have quite a bunch?"

"'Bout two hundred. Well, sorry you can't stay with us. We was fixin' to
round up what cows had drifted in and give 'em a push back to the main
range this afternoon. But they'll keep. We'll stick round camp; and you
stay as late as you can, stranger, and we'll stir up something. I'll tell
you what, Bill--we'll pull off that shootin' match you was blowin'
about." The tall man favored Johnson with a confidential wink. "Bill, he
allows he can shoot right peart. Bill's from California."

Bill, the short man, produced a gray-and-yellow tobacco sack and
extracted a greasy ten-dollar greenback, which he placed on the box
table at Johnson's elbow.

"Cover that, durn you! You hold stakes, stranger. I'll show him
California. Humph! Dam' wall-eyed Tejano!"

"I'm a Texan myself," twinkled Johnson.

"What if you are? You ain't wall-eyed, be you? And you ain't been makin'
no cracks at California--not to me. But this here Jim--look at the
white-eyed, tow-headed grinnin' scoundrel, will you?--Say, are you goin'
to cover that X or are you goin' to crawfish?"

"Back down? You peevish little sawed-off runt!" yelped Jim. "I been
lettin' you shoot off your head so's you'll be good and sore afterwar