n' start an
outfit of my own. I'll be needin' a man about your heft an' complexion
to help me run it, too--savvy?"

The half-breed nodded slowly. "_Oui_, all de tam A'm say: 'Some tam
Tex she queet de dam' foolin', an' den she git to be de beeg man.' I
ain' tink you git dis 'oman, but dat don' mak' no differ', som' tam you
be de beeg man yet. Som' nodder 'oman com' 'long----"

"To hell with some other woman!" flared the Texan. "I tell you I'll
have that girl or I'll never look at another woman. There ain't
another woman in the world can touch her. You think you're wise as
hell, but I'll show you!"

The half-breed regarded him gloomily: "A'm tink dat 'oman de pilgrim
'oman."

"Oh, you do, do you? Well, just you listen to me. She ain't--not yet.
It's me an' the pilgrim for her. If she ties to him instead of me,
it's all right. She'll get a damn good man. Take me, an' all of a
sudden throw me into the middle of _his_ country, an' I doubt like hell
if I'd show up as good as he did in mine. Whatever play goes on
between me an' the pilgrim, will be on the square--with one deck, an'
the cards on the table. There's only one thing I'm holdin' out on him,
an' that is about Purdy. An' that ain't an onfair advantage, because
it's his own fault he's worryin' about it. An' if it gives me a better
chance with her, I'm goin' to grab it. An' I'll win, too. But, if I
don't win, I don't reckon it'll kill me. Sometimes when I get to
thinkin' about it I almost wish it would--I'm that damned close to
bein' yellow."

Bat laughed. The idea of the Texan being yellow struck him as
humorous. "I'm wonder how mooch more beeg lie you got for tell, eh?"

Tex was grinning now, "Search me. I had to concoct some excuse for
getting 'em started--two or three excuses. An' it looks like I got to
keep on concoctin' 'em to keep 'em goin'. But it don't hurt no
one--lyin' like that, don't. It don't hurt the girl, because she's
bound to get one of us. It don't hurt the pilgrim, because we'll see
him through to the railroad. It don't hurt you, because you don't
believe none of it. An' it don't hurt me, because I'm used to it--an'
there you are. But that don't give you no license to set around an'
snort an' gargle while I'm tellin' 'em. I got trouble enough keepin'
'em plausible an' entangled, without you keepin' me settin' on a cactus
for fear you'll give it away. What you got to do is to back up my
play--remember them four