our wealth in one lump. Lemme
see? All I got left is a couple of two-bit pieces. Want 'em?" The
herder nodded and took the two coins and handed back the dollar. Then
he padded stolidly to the shack and reappeared, bearing a purple velvet
jacket which was ornamented with buttons made from silver quarters. He
held it up, indicating that two of the buttons were missing.
"Muchacha," he grunted, pointing toward the south.

"I get you. Your girl is out looking after the goats, and you aim to
kind of surprise her with a full set of buttons when she gets back.
She'll ask you right quick where you got 'em, eh?"

A faint grin touched the old Indian's mouth. The young vaquero was of
the country. He understood.

"Well, it beats me," said Andy. "Now, a white man is all for the big
money. He'd take the dollar, get it changed, and be two-bits ahead,
every time. But I got to drift along. Say, amigo, if any of my
friends come a-boilin down this way, jest tell 'em that Pete--that's
me--was in a hurry, and headed east. Sabe?"

"Si."

"Pete--with the black sombrero." Andy touched his hat.

"Si. 'Pete.'"

"Adios. Wisht I could take a goat along. That milk was sure
comfortin'."

The herder watched Andy mount and ride away. Then he plodded back to
the shack and busied himself patiently soldering tiny rings on the
silver pieces, that the set of buttons for his daughter's jacket might
be complete. He knew that the young stranger must be a fugitive,
otherwise he would not have ridden into the desert so hurriedly. He
had not inquired about water, nor as to feed for his horse. Truly he
was in great haste!

Life meant but three things to the old Indian. Food, sleep, and
physical freedom. He had once been in jail and had suffered as only
those used to the open sky suffer when imprisoned. The young vaquero
had eaten, and had food with him. His eyes had shown that he was not
in need of sleep. Yet he had all but said there would be men looking
for him.

The old Indian rose and picked up a blanket. In the doorway he paused,
surveying the western horizon. Satisfied that no one was in sight, he
padded out to where Andy had tied his horse and swept the blanket
across the tracks in the loose sand. Walking backwards he drew the
blanket after him, obliterating the hoof-prints until he came to a rise
where the ground was rocky. Without haste he returned and squatted in
the shack. He was patiently working on a silve