Ain't got no lungs nor ary liver,
Some says it was a blue cayuse . . ."

"Go git you a sack and gather up the leavin's," laughed Pete, as he
kicked his foot into the stirrup and hit the saddle before Blue Smoke
knew what had happened. Andy swung the gate open. The horse headed
for the mesa, pitching as he ran. This was not half so bad for Pete as
though Blue Smoke had been forced to confine his efforts to the corral.
Pete had long since discovered that when Blue Smoke saw space ahead of
him, he was not apt to pitch hard, but rather to take it out in running
bucks and then settle down to a high-lope--as he did on this occasion,
after he had tried with his usual gusto to unseat his rider. There is
something admirable in the spirit of a horse that refuses to be ridden,
and there was much to be said for Blue Smoke. He possessed tremendous
energy, high courage, and strength, signified by the black stripe down
his back and the compact muscles of his flanks and fore legs. Pete had
coveted the horse ever since that first and unforgettable experience in
the corral. Bailey had said jokingly that he would give Pete the
outlaw if Pete would break him. Pete had frequently had it out with
Blue Smoke when the men were away. He had taken Bailey at his word,
but as usual had said nothing about riding the animal.

Andy watched Pete until he saw that Blue Smoke had ceased to pitch and
was running, when he swung up and loped out after his companion. He
overtook him a half-mile from the ranch, and loped alongside, watching
Pete with no little admiration and some envy. It struck Andy that
while Pete never made much of his intent or his accomplishment,
whatever it might be, he usually succeeded in gaining his end. There
was something about Pete that puzzled Andy; a kind of silent
forcefulness that emanated neither from bulk nor speech; for Pete was
rather lithe and compact than "beefy" and more inclined to silence than
to speech. Yet there was none of the "do or die" attitude about him,
either. But whatever it was, it was there--evident in Pete's eye as he
turned and glanced at Andy--an intenseness of purpose, not manifest in
any outward show or form.

"You sure tamed him," said Andy admiringly.

"Only for this mornin'," acknowledged Pete. "To-morrow mornin' he'll
go to it ag'in. But I aim to sweat some of it out of him afore we hit
the Blue. Got the makin's?"

CHAPTER XV

FOUR MEN

Pete grew silent as he r