who talked up awhile back. It
was me."

Gary was on his feet and took a step toward Pete when young Andy rose.
Pete was his bunkie. Andy didn't want to fight, but if Gary pulled his
gun . . .

Bailey got up quietly, and turning his back on Gary told Pete and Andy
to saddle up and ride out to relieve two of the boys on night-herd.

It was Bud Long who broke the tension. "It's right late for young
roosters to be crowin' that way," he chuckled.

Everybody laughed except Gary. "But it ain't too late for full-growed
roosters to crow!" he asserted.

Long chuckled again. "Nope. I jest crowed."

Not a man present missed the double-meaning, including Gary. And Gary
did not want any of Long's game. The genial Bud had delicately
intimated that his sympathies were with the Concho boys. Then there
were Bailey and Bill Haskins and several others among the Concho outfit
who would never see one of their own get the worst of it. Gary turned
and slunk away toward his own wagon. One after another the T-Bar-T
boys rose and followed. The Annersley raid was not a popular subject
with them.

Bailey turned to Long. "Thanks, Bud."

"'Mornin', Jim," said Long facetiously. "When 'd you git here?"

Two exceedingly disgruntled young cowboys saddled up and rode out to
the night-herd. They had worked all day, and now they would have to
ride herd the rest of the night, for it was nearing twelve. As relief
men they would have to hold their end of the herd until daybreak.

"I told you to shut up," complained Andy.

"I wasn't listenin' to you," said Pete,

"Yes! And this is what we git for your gittin' red-headed about a ole
Mexican sheep-herder. But, honest, Pete, you sure come clost to
gittin' yours. Gary mebby wouldn't 'a' pulled on you--but he'd 'a'
sure trimmed you if Bailey hadn't stepped in."

"He'd never put a hand on me," stated Pete.

"You mean you'd 'a' plugged 'im?"

"I'm meanin' I would."

"But, hell, Pete, you ain't no killer! And they's no use gettin'
started that way. They's plenty as would like to see Gary bumped
off--but I don't want to be the man to do it. Suppose Gary did lead
that raid on ole man Annersley? That's over and done. Annersley is
dead. You're livin'--and sure two dead men don't make a live one.
What's the good o' takin' chances like that?"

"I dunno, Andy. All I know is that when Gary started talkin' about
Montoya I commenced to git hot inside. I knowed I was a fool--but I