group of cowboys
arrived, jesting and roughing their mounts. They entered the store,
bought ammunition, and drifted to the saloon. It was far from pay-day,
as Pete knew. It was also the busy season. There was some ulterior
reason for so many riders assembling in town. Pete decided to find out
just what they were up to.

After supper he meandered across to the saloon, passed around it, and
hid in an empty barrel near the rear door. He was uncomfortable, but
not unhappy. He listened for a chance word that might explain the
presence of so many cowboys in town that day. Frequently he heard
Gary's name mentioned. He had not seen Gary with the others. But the
talk was casual, and he learned nothing until some one remarked that it
was about time to drift along. They left in a body, taking the mesa
trail that led to the Blue. This was significant. They usually left
in groups of two or three, as their individual pleasure dictated. And
there was a business-like alertness about their movements that did not
escape Young Pete.

The Arizona stars were clear and keen when he crept round to the front
of the saloon and pattered across the road to the store. The
storekeeper was closing for the night. Young Pete, restlessly anxious
to follow the T-Bar-T men, invented an excuse to leave the storekeeper,
who suggested that they go to bed.

"Got to see if my hoss is all right," said Pete. "The ole fool's like
to git tangled up in that there drag-rope I done left on him. Reckon
I'll take it off."

"Why, your dad was tellin' me you was a reg'lar buckaroo. Thought you
knew better than to leave a rope on a hoss when he's in a corral."

"I forgot," invented Pete. "Won't take a minute."

"Then I'll wait for you. Run along while I get my lantern."

The storekeeper's house was but a few doors down the street, which,
however, meant quite a distance, as Concho straggled over considerable
territory. He lighted the lantern and sat down on the steps waiting
for the boy. From the corral back of the store came the sound of
trampling hoofs and an occasional word from Young Pete, who seemed to
be a long time at the simple task of untying a drag-rope. The
store-keeper grew suspicious and finally strode back to the corral.
His first intimation of Pete's real intent was a glimpse of the boy
astride the big bay and blinking in the rays of the lantern.

"What you up to?" queried the storekeeper.

Young Pete's reply was to dig h