crushed it with his foot. Then he recovered himself,
joyously shook hands all around and started a conversation that scorned
the flying minutes. During a lull Alonzo looked shrewdly at the
cheerful Indians and put his thoughts into words.

"Boys, anythin' we've got is yourn fer th' askin'," he slowly said; "but
I'd hate ter reckon it war through me an' Enoch that ye lost yer lives,
an' yer ears. We all war clost friends in Independence an' on th' trail.
Clost friends o' yourn air goin' ter be watched like sin from now on.
Tom Boyd an' his friends left th' caravan ter go ter Bent's--an' a
passel o' greasers went arter 'em hot foot. Mebby th' first gang didn't
git ter Bent's--an' it's shore th' greasers ain't showed up yit--not one
o' them. Bad as Armijo is he ain't no fool by a danged sight. Fer yer
own sakes ye better stay with Armstrong till ye leave th' city. Now that
I've warned ye, I don't give a cuss what ye do; yer welcome ter stay
hyar till yer bones rot--an' ye know it."

Tom nodded. "Yer right, Alonzo. I just got a brand new reason fer livin'
till th' return caravan gits past th' Arkansas. Patience Cooper has
_got_ to go with it; she ain't a-goin' ter spend no winter hyar, if I
kin help it--an' if she does stay, then I do, too, ears or no ears." His
face tensed, his eyes gleaming with hatred through the paint and dirt.
"I come nigh ter commitin' murder tonight. 'Twasn't my fault that I
didn't."

Hank clapped him on the shoulder and turned to Uncle Joe. "We war all
a-lookin' in at th' fandango," he explained. "It war a mighty clost
shave fer th' sheep-stealin' shepherd o' Chavez rancho, that growed up
ter be governor. If 'twarn't fer th' gal I'd never 'a' grabbed Boyd."

Uncle Joe shook his head. "There'll be trouble comin' out o' that," he
declared. "We couldn't do nothin' else, but Armijo'll never rest till he
wipes out th' insult o' our turnin' our backs on him an' leavin' like we
did. An' did ye see th' look she gave him? D----d if it wasn't worth th'
trip from Missouri to see it! Us Americans ain't loved a whole lot out
here, an' them blessed Texans has gone an' made things worse. I wish we
all were rollin' down to th' Crossin'. Patience is goin' back. I've
argued _that_ out, anyhow; right up to th' handle!"

"Get her out of town _now_," urged Tom, wriggling forward on his box.
"Us four'll whisk her up to Bent's, an' jine ye at th' Crossin'."

"If we do that her father will have to leave, too," replied