and Irish did, for they were with him--and
laughed surreptitiously together while he wallowed there and came out
afoot, his horse floundering behind him, mud to the ears, both of them.

"Pretty soft going, along there, ain't it?" Pink commiserated
deceitfully.

"It is, kinda," Miguel responded evenly, scraping the adobe off Banjo
with a flat rock. And the subject was closed.

"Well, it's some relief to the eyes to have the shine taken off him,
anyway," Pink observed a little guiltily afterward.

"I betche he ain't goin' to forget that, though," Happy Jack warned when
he saw the caked mud on Miguel's Angora chaps and silver spurs, and the
condition of his saddle. "Yuh better watch out and not turn your backs
on him in the dark, none uh you guys. I betche he packs a knife. Them
kind always does."

"Haw-haw-haw!" bellowed Big Medicine uproariously. "I'd love to see him
git out an' try to use it, by cripes!"

"I wish Andy was here," Pink sighed. "Andy'd take the starch outa him,
all right."

"Wouldn't he be pickings for old Andy, though? Gee!" Cal looked around
at them, with his wide, baby-blue eyes, and laughed. "Let's kinda jolly
him along, boys, till Andy gets back. It sure would be great to watch
'em. I'll bet he can jar the eternal calm outa that Native Son. That's
what grinds me worse than his throwin' on so much dog; he's so blamed
satisfied with himself! You snub him, and he looks at yuh as if you was
his hired man--and then forgets all about yuh. He come outa that 'doby
like he'd been swimmin' a river on a bet, and had made good and was
a hee-ro right before the ladies. Kinda 'Oh, that's nothing to what I
could do if it was worth while,' way he had with him."

"It wouldn't matter so much if he wasn't all front," Pink complained.
"You'll notice that's always the way, though. The fellow all fussed
up with silver and braided leather can't get out and do anything.
I remember up on Milk river--" Pink trailed off into absorbing
reminiscence, which, however, is too lengthy to repeat here.

"Say, Mig-u-ell's down at the stable, sweatin from every pore trying to
get his saddle clean, by golly!" Slim reported cheerfully, just as Pink
was relighting the cigarette which had gone out during the big scene of
his story. "He was cussin' in Spanish, when I walked up to him--but he
shut up when he seen me and got that peaceful look uh hisn on his face.
I wonder, by golly--"

"Oh, shut up and go awn," Irish commanded blun