up tall.

"Buen," says he, and Colin and me withdrew.

"Now, my Scotch friend," says I, when we got out of hearin', "we are up
against it, bang! It's all right for them Injuns to talk of how
peaceful they are, but I'll bet you there ain't a bigot among 'em. If
we don't slide down their gutter, they'll do us harm. How're we to
decide who puts his neck in the lion's mouth?"

But old Colin wasn't listening to me. "They'll make me chief," says
he. "I'm tired of herding sheep." His little grey eyes was shining.

"Well, you knock me every time," says I. "Do you mean you want to trot
with them?"

"They stick together--they have a clan."

I got some excited. "Here, now," I says; "this lets me out of a good
deal of trouble to have you take it this way, but all the same as I've
drunk your whiskey and ate your bread, I'll stand at your back till
your belt caves in. You pass this idea up--it's dangerous--and I'll
make you a foolish proposition; you take the bagpipes and I'll take the
sword and we will pass away to lively music. Darn my skin if I'll see
a friend turned over to those tarriers and sit still."

"Heugh!" says he. "What's a man but a man? As safe with them as
anywhere--and what do I care about safe? What's left me, anyhow? Will
you watch the sheep till they send from the ranch?"

"Why, yes," says I. "But----"

He waved his hand and walked towards the Injuns. "Voy," says he.

"Hungh!" says they. "Bueno."

I laid my hand on his shoulder for one more try. Every brave picked up
his gun and beaded me.

"Drop the guns!" says Colin Hiccup Grunt. And down went the guns.
You'd be surprised at his tone of voice; it meant, as plain as you
could put it in words, "We will now put down the guns." Oh, yes, it
meant it entirely. And he looked a foot taller. The change had done
him good.

"Well," thinks I; "my boys, I reckon you've got your chief, and as
there ain't another peek of light out of this business, I shelve my
kick."

"Where is the senor's horse?" asks Colin.

"In the hills," says the Injun, before he thought.

"Bring it," says Colin.

"Ha!" says all the Injuns, and they sent a man for my mustang. That
quick guess surprised the whole lot of us.

We went together to the cabin, to get his belongings and to cache the
whiskey. If it come into our friend's heads to rummage we might have a
poor evening of it.

"Leave me that sock as a momentum," says I.

"'Tain't finished," says he.