out her ability as a poet. Tex was
merely carrying out an idea which had come to him when he saw Johnny with
his hands full of aircraft literature. If it worked, all right. If it
didn't work, Johnny would not be on the Rolling R pay roll any longer,
but Tex would not have lost anything. It would be convenient to have
Johnny down at Sinkhole Camp, shirking his job while he fiddled around
with his flying bug. Tex believed he knew how he could keep the bug very
active, and Johnny very much engrossed with it--down at Sinkhole Camp. It
was simple enough, and worth the slight effort Tex was making.

So there was Johnny Jewel with his saddle and bridle and suitcase and
chaps, waiting out by the mail box for the stage. And there came Sudden,
driving back from the railroad--Tex knew he was expected back that
forenoon--and reaching the gate before the stage had come in sight
around the southwest spur of the ridge it could not cross. Sudden liked
Johnny--and Tex knew that too. (Tex made it his business to know a good
deal which had nothing to do with his legitimate work.) And good riders
who did not get drunk every chance that offered were not to be hired
every day in the week.

Johnny opened the gate, but Sudden did not drive through. He stopped and
eyed the suitcase and the saddle and the chaps, and then he looked at
Johnny.

"Too much song-bird stuff?" he asked, which showed how sensitive was the
finger Sudden kept on the pulse of his outfit.

"I've got to work for a living, but I don't have to work with that bunch
of idiots," Johnny stated with much dignity.

Sudden rubbed a gauntleted hand across the lower part of his face; and
that, I think, is why Johnny saw himself taken as seriously as his young
egotism demanded.

"Rather be by yourself, would you? Well, throw your baggage in the back
of the car. I want you to catch up a couple of horses and go on down to
Sinkhole. You won't be annoyed down there with anybody's foolishness but
your own, young man. You'll work for your living, all right! Got a gun? A
rifle? Well, there's one at the house you can take. There may not be any
Rolling R horses going across the line--but it'll be your business to
_know_ there aren't. If you see a greaser prowling around, put him on the
run. They're paying good money for horses in Mexico, remember. You're
down there to see they don't get 'em too cheap on this side. Do you get
that?"

"Yes, sir--you bet!"

"Oh. You do? Well, get in."