askin'
questions. Yuh want he should get the idea I hired yuh?"

"I thought it would ease his mind and give him the notion I was safe for a
while," smiled Stratton. "Of course you could say I tried for a job but
you were full up."

"That would be easier," agreed Tenny. "I could keep my mouth shut, but I
couldn't guarantee about the boys. They wouldn't say nothin' a-purpose,
but like as not if they should meet up with one of that slick crowd at the
Shoe-Bar they'd let somethin' slip without thinkin'. On the other hand, it
sure would make him a mite careless if he thought yuh was tied down here
on a reg'lar job."

He paused reflectively; then suddenly his eyes brightened.

"I got it," he chuckled. "I'll send you down to help Gabby Smith at Red
Butte camp. That's 'way to hell and gone down at the south end of the
outfit, where nobody goes from here more'n about once in six months.
Gabby's one of these here solitary guys that's sorta soured on the world
in gen'al, an' don't hardly open his face except to take in grub, but yuh
can trust him. Jest tell him what yuh want and he'll do it, providin' yuh
don't hang around the camp too long. Gabby does hate company worse'n a
dose of poison."

Tenny lost no time in carrying out his plans. He hunted out a few simple
cooking-utensils and enough canned goods and other stores to last two
weeks, picked a pack-animal and a riding horse, and by dinner-time had
everything ready for Buck to start immediately afterward.

The six or seven cow-punchers who responded to the gong presented a marked
and pleasant contrast to the Shoe-Bar outfit. They greeted Stratton with
some brevity, but after the first pangs of hunger had been assuaged and
they learned where he was bound for, they expanded, and Buck was the
object of much joking commiseration on the prospect before him.

"You'll sure have one wild time," grinned a dark-haired, blue-eyed
youngster called Broncho. "Gabby's about as sociable as a rattler. I
wouldn't change places with yuh for no money."

No one seemed to suspect any ulterior motive beneath the plan, and when
Buck rode off about one o'clock, leading his pack-horse, his spirits rose
insensibly at the ease with which things seemed to be working out.

He reached Red Butte camp in a little more than three hours and found the
adobe shack deserted. It was similar in size and construction to Las
Vegas, but there all likeness ceased, for the interior was surprisingly
comfortable