thought you had started in to clean out the
ranch! You downed my rooster and you like to plugged me an' that
heifer there. The bullit come singin' along and plunked into the
rain-bar'l and most scared me to death. What in the ole scratch
started you on the war-path, anyhow?"

Pete realized that he had overdone the matter slightly. "Why,
nothin'--only you said we was to eat that hen for supper, an' I
couldn't catch the dog-gone ole squawker, so I jest set to and plugged
her. This here gun of yourn kicks somethin' fierce!"

"Well, I reckon you was meanin' all right. But Gosh-A'mighty! You
might 'a' killed the cow or me or somethin'!"

"Well, I got her, anyhow. I got her plumb center."

"Yes--you sure did." And the old man took the remains of the hen from
Pete and "hefted" those remains with a critical finger and thumb. "One
laig left, and a piece of the breast." He sighed heavily. Young Pete
stared up at him, expecting praise for his marksmanship and energy.
The old man put his hand on Pete's shoulder. "It's all right this
time, son. I reckon you wasn't meanin' to murder that rooster. I only
got one, and--"

"He jest run right in front of the hen when I cut loose. He might 'a'
knowed better."

"We'll go see." And Annersley plodded to the yard, picked up the
defunct rooster and entered the cabin.

Young Pete cooled down to a realization that his new pop was not
altogether pleased. He followed Annersley, who told him to put the gun
back in the corner.

"Got to clean her first," asserted Young Pete.

"You look out you don't shoot yourself," said Annersley from the
kitchen.

"Huh," came from the ambitious, young hunter of feathered game, "I know
all about guns--and this here ole musket sure needs cleanin' bad. She
liked to kicked my doggone head off."

They ate what was left of the hen, and a portion of the rooster. After
supper Annersley sat outside with the boy and talked to him kindly.
Slowly it dawned upon Young Pete that it was not considered good form
in the best families of Arizona to slay law-abiding roosters without
explicit directions and permission from their owners. The old man
concluded with a promise that if Young Pete liked to shoot, he should
some day have a gun of his own if he, in turn, would agree to do no
shooting without permission. The promise of a real gun of his own
touched Young Pete's tough little heart. He stuck out his hand. The
compact was sealed.

"Git a t