o smoke," said Mrs. Bailey, indicating another of the
boys who had just rolled and lighted a cigarette, "there's all outdoors
to do it in."

This puncher also grew red, rose, and sauntered out.

Bailey and the two remaining cowboys shuffled their feet, wondering who
would be the next to suffer the slings and arrows of Ma Bailey's
indignation. _They_ considered the Blue Smoke episode closed.
Evidently Ma Bailey did not. Bailey himself wisely suggested that they
go over to the bunk-house. It would be cooler there. The cowboys rose
promptly and departed. But they were cowboys and not to be silenced so
easily.

They loved Ma Bailey and they dearly loved to tease her. Strong,
rugged, and used to activity, they could not be quiet long. Mrs.
Bailey hitched a chair close to Pete and had learned much of his early
history--for Pete felt that the least he could do was to answer her
kindly questions--and he, in turn, had been feeling quite at home in
her evident sympathy, when an unearthly yell shattered the quiet of the
summer evening. More yells--and a voice from the darkness stated that
some one was hurt bad; to bring a light. Groans, heartrending and
hoarse, punctuated the succeeding silence. "It's Jim," the voice
asserted. "Guess his leg's bruk."

The groaning continued. Mrs. Bailey rose and seized the lamp. Pete
got up stiffly and followed her out. One of the men was down on all
fours, jumping about in ludicrous imitation of a bucking horse; and
another was astride him, beating him not too gently with a quirt. As
Ma Bailey came in sight the other cowboys swung their hats and shouted
encouragement to the rider. Bailey was not visible.

"Stay with 'im!" cried one. "Rake 'im! He's gittin' played out! Look
out! He's goin' to sunfish! Bust 'im wide open!"

It was a huge parody of the afternoon performance, staged for Ma
Bailey's special benefit. Suddenly the cowboy who represented Blue
Smoke made an astounding buck and his rider bit the dust.

Ma Bailey held the lamp aloft and gazed sternly at the two sweating,
puffing cowboys. "Where's Bailey?" she queried sharply.

One of the men stepped forward and doffing his hat assumed an attitude
of profound gravity. "Blue there, he done pitched your husband, mam,
and broke his leg. Your husband done loped off on three laigs, to git
the doctor to fix it."

"Let me catch sight of him and I'll fix it!" she snorted. "Jim, if
you're hidin' in that bunk-house