don't behave."

"I'm no school-kid, Threewit. I play my own hand. Sabe?" Harrison turned
his cold eyes on the range-rider. "And I serve notice right here that
next time my young rube friend and me mixes you'd better bring a basket
to gather up the pieces."

Yeager brushed a fly languidly from his gauntlet. "That's twice he's
used the word 'friend.' I reckon he don't know I'm some particular who
calls me that."

"That'll be enough, Yeager. Don't start anything here. We're a
moving-picture outfit, not a bunch of pugs." Briskly the director
changed the subject. "I want you to choose a couple of the boys and go
down to Yarnell's after a herd of cattle we're going to need in that
Tapidero Jim picture. If you need more help the old man will let you
have one or two of his riders."

Harrison had turned to leave, but he stopped to examine the conchas on a
pair of leathers. Steve had a fleeting thought that the man was
listening; also that he was covering the fact with a manner of elaborate
carelessness.

"Want I should start right away?"

"Yep. Can you get back by to-morrow night?"

"I reckon. Has Yarnell got 'em rounded up?" asked Yeager.

"He telephoned me this morning they were ready."

"Then we'd ought to reach Los Robles late to-morrow night if we hit the
trail steady."

"Good enough. Who do you want to take with you?"

"I'll take Shorty and Orman."

The details were arranged on the spot. Harrison was still giving his
attention to the conchas on the chaps. They were made of 'dobe dollars.
He had seen Jackson wear them fifty times and had never before showed
the least interest in them.

CHAPTER V

YEAGER ASKS ADVICE

Though Yeager had enjoyed immensely his month with the Lunar people, he
tasted again the dust of the drag-driver with a keen pleasure. He had
not yet been able to get it out of his mind that he was only playing at
work with the film company. When he heard some of the others complain
about long hours and dangerous stunts he wished they could have ridden
on the roundup for the Lone Star outfit about a week. Arizona had tanned
the complexions of the actors, but it had left most of them still soft
of muscle and fiber. The flabbiness of Broadway cannot be washed out of
the soul in a month.

But to-day he felt he had done a man's work. It had been like old times.
The white dust of the desert had enwrapped them in clouds. The
untempered sun had beat down a palpitating heat upon dry sand w