them stories. I want to read
it. I've lived in the West a few minutes myself."

A week later Shoop had made his decision. He returned a shiny, new
volume to the clerk.

"I never took to writin' folks reg'lar," he told the clerk. "Mebby I got
the wrong idee of 'em. Now I reckon some of them is human, same as you
and me. Why, do you know I been through lots of them things he writes
about. And, by gollies, when I read that there gun-fight down in Texas,
I ketched myself feelin' along my hip, like I was packin' a gun. And
when I read about that cowboy's hoss,--the one with the sarko eye and
the white legs,--why, I ketched myself feelin' for my ole bandanna to
blow my nose. An' I seen dead hosses a-plenty. But you needn't to say
nothin' about that in the letter. Just tell him to mosey over and we'll
talk it out. If a man what knows hosses and folks like he does wa'n't
raised in the West, he ought to been. Heard anything from Adams?"

"He was in last week. He's up on Baldy. Packed some stuff up to the
lookout."

"Uh-uh. Now, the land next to my shack on the Blue ain't a bad place for
this here writer. I got the plat, and we can line out the five acres
this fella wants from my corner post. But he's comin' in kind of late to
build a camp."

"It will be good weather till December," said the clerk.

"Well, you write and tell him to come over. Seen anything of Hardy and
his men lately?"

"Not since last Tuesday."

"Uh-uh. They're millin' around like a lot of burros--and gettin'
nowhere. But Jim Waring's out after that bunch that got Pat. If I wasn't
so hefty, I'd 'a' gone with him. I tell you the man that got Pat ain't
goin' to live long to brag on it."

"They say it was the Brewster boys," ventured the stenographer.

"They say lots of things, son. But Jim Waring _knows_. God help the man
that shot Pat when Jim Waring meets up with him. And I want to tell you
somethin'. Be kind of careful about repeatin' what 'they say' to
anybody. You got nothin' to back you up if somebody calls your hand.
'They' ain't goin' to see you through. And you named the Brewster boys.
Now, just suppose one of the Brewster boys heard of it and come over
askin' you what you meant? I bet you a new hat Jim Waring ain't said
Brewster's name to a soul--and he _knows_. I'm goin' over to Stacey. Any
mail the stage didn't get?"

"Letter for Mrs. Adams."

"Uh-uh. Lorry writes to his ma like he was her beau--reg'lar and
plenty. Funny thing, you can'