"Well, you go eat now, and I'll catch up a cayuse for you. We're goin'
to fan it for Bald Knoll in about ten minutes."

"Do I go, too?"

"Sure! Do you think we don't eat pie only onct a year? You bet you
go--helpin' Hi. Boss's orders."

"Thanks--but I ain't no rider."

Shoop glanced questioningly at Sundown's legs. "Mebby not. But if I
owned them legs I'd contract to ride white-lightnin' bareback. I'd
just curl 'em 'round and grab holt of my feet when they showed up on
the other side. Them ain't legs; them's _cinchas_."

"Mebby they ain't," sighed Sundown. "It's the only pair I got, and I'm
kind of used to 'em."

"Did you let Chance loose?" queried the foreman.

"Me? Nix. But he was sleepin' in the stall with me this mornin'."

"Heard him goin' on last night. Thought mebby a coyote or a wolf had
strayed in to get a drink."

"Get a drink! Can't they get a drink up in them hills?"

"Sure! But they kind of fancy the flavor of the water-trough. They
come in frequent. But you better fan it for chuck. See you later."

Sundown hurried through breakfast. He was anxious to hear more about
the habits of coyotes and wolves. When he again came to the corral,
many of the riders had departed. Shoop stood waiting for John Corliss.

"You said them wolves and coyotes--" began Sundown.

"Yes, ding 'em!" interrupted Shoop. "Looks like they come down last
night. Somethin' 's been monkeyin' with the water."

"Did you ever see one--at night?" queried Sundown, nervously.

"See 'em? Why, I shot droves of 'em right from the bunk-house door. I
never miss a chance. Cut loose every time I see one standin' with his
front paws on the trough. Get 'em every time."

"Wisht I'd knowed that."

"So?"

"Uhuh. I'd 'a' borrowed a gun off you and set up and watched for 'em
myself."

Bud Shoop made a pretense of tightening a cinch on Sundown's pony, that
he might "blush unseen," as it were.

Presently Corliss appeared and motioned to Shoop. "How's the new cook
doing?" he asked.

"Fine!"

Sundown retired modestly to the off-side of the pony.

"Got a line on him already," said Shoop. "First thing, Chance, here,
took to him. Then, next thing, he manufactures a batch of pies that
ain't been matched on the Concho since she was a ranch. Then, next
thing after that, Chance slips his collar and goes and bushes with the
Bo--sleeps with him till this mornin'. And you can rope me for a
parson if that walki