of the Texas authorities. Go on and hammer that egg some
more if it's the inside of it you want. Now, what did you shoot Mr.
Johnson, of Bildad, for?'

"And may I ask who you are?' says he.

"'You may,' says I. 'Go ahead.'

"'I suppose you're on,' says this kid, without batting his eyes. 'But
what are you eating? Here, waiter!' he calls out, raising his finger.
'Take this gentleman's order.

"'A beefsteak,' says I, 'and some fried eggs and a can of peaches and
a quart of coffee will about suffice.'

"We talk awhile about the sundries of life and then he says:

"'What are you going to do about that shooting? I had a right to shoot
that man,' says he. 'He called me names that I couldn't overlook, and
then he struck me. He carried a gun, too. What else could I do?'

"'We'll have to take you back to Texas,' says I.

"'I'd like to go back,' says the boy, with a kind of a grin--'if it
wasn't on an occasion of this kind. It's the life I like. I've always
wanted to ride and shoot and live in the open air ever since I can
remember.'

"'Who was this gang of stout parties you took this trip with?' I asks.

"'My stepfather,' says he, 'and some business partners of his in some
Mexican mining and land schemes.'

"'I saw you shoot Pedro Johnson,' says I, 'and I took that little
popgun away from you that you did it with. And when I did so I noticed
three or four little scars in a row over your right eyebrow. You've
been in rookus before, haven't you?'

"'I've had these scars ever since I can remember,' says he. 'I don't
know how they came there.'

"'Was you ever in Texas before?' says I.

"'Not that I remember of,' says he. 'But I thought I had when we
struck the prairie country. But I guess I hadn't.'

"'Have you got a mother?' I asks.

"'She died five years ago,' says he.

"Skipping over the most of what followed--when Luke came back I turned
the kid over to him. He had seen Scudder and told him what he wanted;
and it seems that Scudder got active with one of these telephones as
soon as he left. For in about an hour afterward there comes to our
hotel some of these city rangers in everyday clothes that they call
detectives, and marches the whole outfit of us to what they call a
magistrate's court. They accuse Luke of attempted kidnapping, and ask
him what he has to say.

"'This snipe,' says Luke to the judge, 'shot and wilfully punctured
with malice and forethought one of the most respected and prominent
citiz