thousan' miles away
from here, in a week, but you're different. All they got to do is grab
the ranch, it's good for five or six thousan' in damages, all right.
Still if you don't want to trade, I'll be goin'." He gathered up his
reins.

"Hold on! It's a damned hold-up, but what was it you wanted?"

The Texan checked off the items on his gloved fingers: "One pair of
pants, one shirt, one hat, one pair of boots, same size as yourn, one
pair of spurs, one silk muffler, that one you've got on'll do, one
cinch, half a dozen packages of tobacco, an' one bottle of whiskey.
All to be in good order an' delivered right here within ten minutes.
An' you might fetch a war-bag to pack 'em in. Hurry up now! 'Cause if
you ain't back in ten minutes, I'll be movin' along, an' when I pass
the word to the owners of them cattle it's goin' to raise their
asperity some obnoxious."

With a growl the man disappeared into the house to return a few minutes
later with a sack whose sides bulged.

"Dump 'em out an' we'll look 'em over!" ordered the Texan and the man
complied.

"All right. Throw 'em in again an' hand 'em up."

When he had secured the load by means of his pack strings he turned to
the rancher.

"So long, Johnson, an' if I was you I wouldn't lose no time in
attendin' to the last solemn obsequies of them defunk dogies. I'll
never squeal, but you can't tell how soon someone else might come
a-ridin' along through the foot-hills."

CHAPTER XIII

A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH"

It was well past the middle of the afternoon when the Texan rode up the
steep incline and unsaddled his horse. The occupants of the camp were
all asleep, the girl in her little shelter tent, and Bat and Endicott
with their blankets spread at some little distance away. Tex carried
the outfit he had procured from Johnson into the timber, then crawled
cautiously to the pilgrim's side, and awoke him without arousing the
others.

"Hey, Win, wake up," he whispered as the man regarded him through a
pair of sleepy eyes. "Come on with me. I got somethin' to show you."
Tex led the way to the war-bag. "Them clothes of yourn is plum
despisable to look at," he imparted, "so I borrowed an outfit offen a
friend of mine that's about your size. Just crawl into 'em an' see how
they fit."

Five minutes later the cowboy viewed with approval the figure that
stood before him, booted and spurred, with his mud-caked garments
replaced by corduroy trousers and a shir