d what had become of Malvey--if
the posse had actually shot him, or if they had simply taken the horse
and let Malvey go. The arrival of Brevoort put an end to his pondering.

"Brent will be in to-day," said Brevoort. "You stick around here; and
call me about noon."

"The old man ain't takin' chances," remarked Pete.

"You're wrong there," asserted Brevoort. "He's takin' the long chance
every time, or he wouldn't be foreman of this outfit. You'll find that
out if you stick round here long enough. If you don't call it takin' a
chance pullin' off a trick like this one that's comin', jest try it
yourself."

"He handles men easy," asserted Pete, recalling Brent's rather fatherly
advice in regard to Texas and the opportunity for a young man to go
straight.

"You sure please me most to death," drawled Brevoort. "You been a
right quiet little pardner, and smilin', so I'm going to tell you
somethin' that you can keep right on bein' quiet about. Sam Brent
would send you or me or any man into a gun-fight, or a posse, or a
jail, and never blink his eye, if he thought it was good business for
him. He'd do it pleasant, too, jest like he was sendin' you to a
dance, or a show. But he'd go jest as quick hisself, if he had to."

"Then I guess we got no kick," said Pete.

"I ain't kickin'. I'm jest puttin' you wise."

"I ain't forgittin', Ed."

Pete turned, following Brevoort's gaze. The man they were talking
about was in sight and riding hard. Presently Brent was close enough
to nod to them. Although he had ridden far and fast, he was as casual
as sunshine. Neither in his voice nor his bearing was the least trace
of fatigue.

"I'm goin' to need you," he told Pete. "We're short of hands right
now. If you need anything over in the line shack, go git it and come
along down after Ed and me."

Pete took the hint and left Brevoort and Brent to ride to the house
together while he rode over to the shack and warmed up some coffee and
beans. In an hour he was at the house. A thoroughbred stood at the
hitching-rail. Pete noticed that the animal carried Brevoort's saddle.
Evidently there was to be more hard riding. As Pete entered the big
room, he also noticed that Brevoort was heavily armed, and carried an
extra belt of cartridges. Brent was examining a rifle when Pete
stepped in. "You may need this," said Brent, handing the rifle and
scabbard to Pete. "Go over to the bunk-house and get another belt and
some s