dismounted.

"Oh, come on, Cadwalloper," Weary dissuaded. "You'll likely have all the
excitement you need, without that."

"Here, you hold this fool cayuse. No." He shook his head, cutting short
further protest. "You're the boss, and you don't want to mix in, and
that part is all right. But I ain't responsible--and I sure am going
to take a fall or two out of these geesers. They're a-w-l together too
stuck on themselves to suit me." Pink did not say that he was thinking
of Andy, but nevertheless a vivid recollection of that unfortunate young
man's rope-creased wrists and swollen hands sent him toward the herder
with long, eager strides.

Pink was not tall, and he was slight and boyish of build; also, his
cherubic face, topped by tawny curls and lighted by eyes as deeply blue
and as innocent as a baby's, probably deceived that herder, just as
they had deceived many another. For Pink was a good deal like a stick
of dynamite wrapped in white tissue paper and tied with blue ribbon;
and Weary was not at all uneasy over the outcome, as he watched Pink go
clanking back, though he loved him well.

Pink did not waste any time or words on the preliminaries. With a
delightful frankness of purpose he pulled off his coat and threw it
on the ground, as he came up, sent his hat after it, and arrived fist
first.

The herder had waited grinning, and he had shouted something to Weary
about spanking the kid if Weary didn't make him behave. Speedily he
became a very surprised herder, and a distressed one as well.

"All right," Pink remarked, a little quick-breathed, when the herder
decided for the third time to get up. "A friend of mine worked yuh over
a little, this morning, and I just thought I'd make a better job than he
did. Your eyes didn't match. They will, now."

The herder mumbled maledictions after him, but Pink would not even give
him the satisfaction of resenting it.

"I'd like to have broken a knuckle against his teeth, darn him," he
observed ruefully when he was in the saddle again. "Come on, Weary. It
won't take but a minute to hand a punch or two to that bug-killer,
and then I'll feel better. They've both got it coming--come on!" This
because Weary showed a strong inclination to take the trail and keep it
to his destination. "Well, I'll go alone, then. I've got to kinda square
myself for the way I threw it into Andy; and you know blamed well,
Weary, they played it low-down on him, or they'd never have got that
rope