"I don' talk like that," he said, shrugging his
shoulders.

Pete felt that he was getting in deep--but he had a happy inspiration.
"You don't have to talk. Your ole forty-four does the talking I
reckon."

"You come and cook?" queried Montoya, coming straight to the point.

"I dunno, amigo. I'll think about it."

"Bueno. It is dark, I will walk with you to Concho."

"You think I'm a kid?" flared Pete. "If was dark when I come over here
and it ain't any darker now. I ain't no doggone cow-puncher what's got
to git on a hoss afore he dast go anywhere."

Montoya laughed. "You come to-morrow night, eh?"

"Reckon I will."

"Then the camp will be over there--in the canon. You will see the
fire."

"I'll come over and have a talk anyway," said Pete, still unwilling to
let Montoya think him anxious. "Buenos noches!"

Montoya nodded. "He will come," he said to his nephew. "Then it is
that you may go to the home. He is small--but of the very great
courage."

The following evening Pete appeared at the herder's camp. The dogs ran
out, sniffed at him, and returned to the fire. Montoya made a place
for him on the thick sheepskins and asked him if he had eaten. Yes, he
had had supper, but he had no blankets. Could Montoya let him have a
blanket until he had earned enough money to buy one?

The old herder told him that he could have the nephew's blankets; Pedro
was to leave camp next day and go home. As for money, Montoya did not
pay wages. Of course, for tobacco, or a coat or pants, he could have
the money when he needed them.

Pete felt a bit taken aback. He had burnt his bridges--he could not
return to Concho--yet he wanted a definite wage. "I kin pack--make and
break camp--and sure cook the frijoles. Pop learned me all that; but
he was payin' me a dollar a week. He said I was jest as good as a man.
A dollar a week ain't much."

The old herder shook his head. "Not until I sell the wool can I pay."

"When do you sell that wool?"

"When the pay for it is good. Sometimes I wait."

"Well, I kin see where I don't get rich herdin' sheep."

"We shall see. Perhaps, if you are a good boy--"

"You got me wrong, senor. Roth he said I was the limit--and even my
old pop said I was a tough kid. I ain't doin' this for my health. I
hooked up with you 'cause I kinda thought--"

"Si?"

"Well, Roth was tellin' as how you could make a six-gun smoke faster
than most any hombre a-livin'. Now, I was fi