ran up his neck and face. "H'lo, Jim."

"How'd you know it was me?" Bailey stood up.

"Knowed your voice."

"Well, come on up. I was wonderin' who was down there settin' off the
fireworks. Didn't hear you till I got most on top of you. You sure
got some private shootin'-gallery."

Pete led his pony up the steep trail and squatted beside Bailey. "How
long you been watching me, Jim?"

"Oh, jest since you started shooting under your hoss. What's the idea?"

"Nothin', jest practicin'."

"You must 'a' been practicin' quite a' spell. You handle that
smoke-wagon like an ole-timer."

"I ain't advertisin' it."

"Well, it's all right, Pete. Glad I got a front seat. Never figured
you was a top-hand with a gun. Now I'm wise. I know enough not to
stack up against you."

Pete smiled his slow smile and pushed back his hat. "I reckon you're
right about that. I never did no shootin' in company. Ole Jose
Montoya always said to do your practicin' by yourself, and then nobody
knows just how you would play your hand."

Bailey frowned and nodded. "Well, seein' as I'm in on it, Pete, I'd
kind of like to know myself."

"Why, I'm jest figurin' that some day mebby somebody'll want to hang my
hide on the fence. I don't aim to let him."

"Meanin' Gary?"

"The same. I ain't _lookin'_ for Gary--even if he did shoot down Pop
Annersley--nor I ain't tryin' to keep out of his way. I'm ridin' this
country and I'm like to meet up with him 'most any time. That's all."

"Shucks, Pete! You forget Gary. He sure ain't worth gettin' hung for.
Gary ain't goin' to put you down so long as you ride for the Concho.
He knows somebody 'd get him. You jest practice shootin' all you
like--but tend to business the rest of the time and you'll live longer.
You can figure on one thing, if Gary was to get you he wouldn't live to
get out of this country."

"You're handin' me your best card," said Pete. "Gary killed Annersley.
The law didn't get Gary. And none of you fellas got him. He's ridin'
this here country yet. And you was tellin' me to forget him."

"But that's different, Pete. No one saw Gary shoot Annersley. It was
night. Annersley was killed in his cabin--by a shot through the
window. Anybody might have fired that shot. Why, you were there
yourself--and you can't prove who done it."

"I can't, eh? Well, between you and me, Jim, I _know_. One of Gary's
own men said that night when they were leavin' the cabin, 'I