id no word, while Rowdy
led Chub back to the cabin which he had pointed out as the bunk-house;
he stood by while Rowdy loosened the pack and dragged it inside.

"I guess you can get located here," he said. "I ain't workin' more'n
three or four men just now, but there's quite a few uh the boys stopping
here; the Cross L's a regular hang-out for cow-punchers. You're a little
early for the season, but I'll see that yuh have something t' do--just
t' keep yuh out uh devilment."

Rowdy's brows unbent; it would seem that Eagle Creek was capable of
"joshing" also. "It's up t' you, old-timer," he retorted. "I'm strong
and willing, and don't shy at anything but pitchforks."

Eagle Creek grinned. "This ain't no blamed cowhospital," he gave as a
parting shot. "All the hay that's shoveled on this ranch needn't hurt
nobody's feelings." With that he shut the door, and left Rowdy to
acquaint himself with his new home.

CHAPTER 4. Pink as "Chappyrone."

Rowdy was sprawled ungracefully upon somebody's bunk--he neither knew
nor cared whose--and he was snoring unmelodiously, and not dreaming a
thing; for when a cow-puncher has nothing in particular to do, he
sleeps to atone for the weary hours when he must be very wide-awake. An
avalanche descended upon his unwarned middle, and checked the rhythmic
ebb and flow of sound. He squawked and came to life clawing viciously.

"I'd like t' know where the devil yuh come from," a voice remarked
plaintively in a soft treble.

Rowdy opened his eyes with a snap. "Pink! by all that's good and bad!
Get up off my diaphragm, you little fiend."

Pink absent-mindedly kneaded Rowdy's stomach with his knuckles, and
immediately found himself in a far corner. He came back, dimpling
mischievously. He looked much more an angel than a fiend, for all his
Angora chaps and flame-colored scarf.

"Your bed and war-bag's on my bunk; you're on Smoky's; and Dixie's
makin' himself to home in the corral. By all them signs and tokens,
I give a reckless guess you're here t' stay a while. That right?" He
prodded again at Rowdy's ribs.

"It sure is, Pink. And if I'd known you was holding out here, I'd 'a'
come sooner, maybe. You sure look good to me, you darned little cuss!"
Rowdy sat up and took a lightning inventory of the four or five other
fellows lounging about. He must have slept pretty sound, he thought, not
to hear them come in.

Pink read the look, and bethought him of the necessary introductions.
"Thi