in town now an' get 'em to promise to help me by letting me run this all
by myself. All I want them to do is not to say a word. It ain't hard to
keep still when you want to."

"Why, I reckon I might see 'em--there ain't many here this time of
day," responded the bartender. "But what's yore game, anyhow?" he asked,
suddenly growing suspicious.

"It's just a little scheme I figgered out," the stranger replied, and
then he confided in the bartender, who jigged a few fancy steps to show
his appreciation of the other's genius. His suspicions left him at once,
and he hastened out to tell the inhabitants of the town to follow his
instructions to the letter, and he knew they would obey, and be glad,
hilariously glad, to do so. While he was hurrying around giving his
instructions, the CG puncher returned to the hotel and reported.

"Well, it worked, all right," Fisher growled. "I told him what I'd do
to him if he tried to auction that cayuse off an' he retorted that if I
didn't shut up an' mind my own business, that he'd sell the horse this
noon, at twelve o'clock, in the public square, wherever that is. I told
him he was a coyote and dared him to do it. Told him I'd pump him full
of air ducts if he didn't wait till next week. Said I had the promise of
a gun an' that it'd give me great pleasure to use it on him if he tried
any auctioneering at my expense this noon. Then he fined me five dollars
more, swore that he'd show me what it meant to dare the marshal of
Rawhide an' insult the dignity of the court an' town council, an' also
that he'd shoot my liver all through my system if I didn't leave him to
his reflections. Now, look here, stranger; noon is only two hours away
an' I'm due to lose my outfit: what are _you_ going to do to get me out
of this mess?" he finished anxiously, hands on hips.

"You did real well, very fine, indeed," replied the stranger, smiling
with content. "An' don't you worry about that outfit--I'm going to get
it back for you an' a little bit more. So, as long as you don't lose
nothing, you ain't got no kick coming, have you? An' you ain't got no
interest in what I'm going to do. Just sit tight an' keep yore eyes an'
ears open at noon. Meantime, if you want something to do to keep you
busy, practise making speeches--you ought to be ashamed to be punching
cows an' working for a living when you could use yore talents an' get a
lot of graft besides. Any man who can say as much on nothing as you
can ought t