ays to
Pete, I says, 'Take it from me they might ketch all the rest of 'em but
they won't never ketch Tex!' An' Pete, he says, 'You're just right
there, Joe,' an' then he takes me off to one side, old Pete does, an'
he says, 'Joe,' he says, 'I've got a ticklish job to be done, an' I
ain't got another man I kin bank on puttin' it through.'"

The Texan happened to know that Mr. Peter G. Kester, owner of the K 2,
was a very dignified old gentleman who left the details of his ranch
entirely in the hands of his foreman, and the idea of his drinking in
the Long Horn with his cowboys was as unique as was hearing him
referred to as "Old Pete."

"What's ailin' him?" asked the Texan. "Did he lose a hen, or is he
fixin' to steal someone's mewl?"

"It's them Bar A saddle horses," continued the cowboy, without noticing
the interruption. "He buys a string of twenty three-year-olds offen
the Bar A an' they broke out of the pasture. They range over here on
the south slope, an' if them horse-thieves down in the bad lands has
got 'em they're a-goin' to think twict before they run off any more K 2
horses, as long as I'm workin' fer the outfit."

"Are you aimin' to drive twenty head of horses off their own range
single handed?"

"Sure. You can do it easy if you savvy horses."

The Texan refrained from comment. He wanted to know who was supposed
to be interested in catching him, and why. Had someone told the truth
about the lynching, and was he really wanted for aiding and abetting
the pilgrim's escape?

"I reckon that's true," he opined. "They can't get me here in the bad
lands."

The other laughed: "You bet they can't! Say, that was some ride you
put up down to Wolf River. None of us could have done better."

"Did you say they was headin' this way?"

"Who?"

"Who would I be thinkin' about now, I wonder?"

"Oh! Naw! They ain't ready to make any arrests yet. The grand jury
set special an' returned a lot of indictments an' you're one of 'em,
but the districk attorney, he claims he can't go ahead until he digs up
the cripus delinkty----"

"The what?"

"Oh, that's a nickname the lawyers has got fer a pilgrim."

"Wasn't one stranglin' enough for spreadin' out Purdy? What do they
want of the pilgrim?"

"Spreadin' out Purdy!" exclaimed the other, "don't you know that Purdy
didn't stay spread? Wasn't hardly hurt even. The pilgrim's bullet
just barely creased him, an' when Sam Moore went back with a spring
wag