ee and Joshua, than he did of anything on earth. I'll
send one of the boys back to the water-hole to-morrow, for your saddles
and outfit. But now you're here, how do you like the country?"

"Almost as much as I like some of the people living in it," stated
Bartley.

"Not including Panhandle Sears, eh?"

"I'm pretty well fed up on walking," and Bartley smiled.

"Sears is a worthless hombre," stated the Senator. "He's one of a gang
that steal stock, and generally live by their wits and never seem to get
caught. But he made a big mistake when he lifted Cheyenne's horses.
Cheyenne already has a grievance against Sears. Some day Cheyenne will
open up--and that will be the last of Mr. Sears."

"I had an idea there was something like that in the wind," said Bartley.
"Cheyenne hasn't said much about Sears, but I was present at that crap
game."

The Senator chuckled. "I heard about it. Heard you offered to take on
Sears if he would put his gun on the table."

Bartley flushed. "I must have been excited."

The Senator leaned forward in his big, easy-chair. "Cheyenne wants me to
let him take a couple of horses to trail Panhandle. And, judging from
what Cheyenne said, he thinks you are going along with him. There's lots
of country right round here to see, without taking any unnecessary
risks."

"I understand," said Bartley.

"And this is your headquarters, as long as you want to stay," continued
the Senator.

"Thank you. It's a big temptation to stay, Senator."

"How?"

"Well, it was rather understood, without anything being said, that I
would help Cheyenne find his horses and mine. Dobe came back; but that
hardly excuses me from going with Cheyenne."

"But your horse is here; and you seem to be in pretty fair health, right
now."

"I appreciate the hint, Senator."

"But you don't agree with me a whole lot."

"Well, not quite. Chance rather chucked us together, Cheyenne and me,
and I think I'll travel with him for a while. I like to hear him sing."

"He likes to hear him sing!" scoffed the Senator, frowning. He sat back
in his chair, blew smoke-rings, puffed out his cheeks, and presently
rose. "Bartley, I see that you're set on chousin' around the country
with that warbling waddie--just to hear him sing, as you say. I say
you're a dam' fool.

"But you're the kind of a dam' fool I want to shake hands with. You
aren't excited and you don't play to the gallery; so if there's anything
you want on this ranch, fro