all over the range as Gary's close friend. Andy half-expected to
see Cotton with the posse, but Cotton was not there. He did not
recognize the two riders on the wings of the posse.

"Mornin', fellas!" he called as the cowboys swept up. "What's the
idea?"

"This!" snarled Simpson as he took out his rope.

"Hold on!" cried Houck, dismounting and covering White. "This ain't
our man! It's young Andy White!"

"You might 'a' found that out before you started shootin'," said Andy,
lowering his hands. "My gun's on the saddle there."

Despite the fact that it was Andy White, Houck took no chances, but
searched him. Then, "what in hell was _your_ idea?"

"Me? Why, I was ridin' to the Concho when one of you guys shot my hat
off. I reckoned it was about time to pull up."

"Ridin' to the Concho, eh? I suppose you'll say next that you got lost
and thought the Concho was over this way?"

"Nope. I was ridin' to the Concho to report the shootin' of Steve Gary
to my boss."

Houck, who had imagined that White would disclaim any knowledge of the
shooting until forced to admit it, took a new tack. "Where's Pete
Annersley?"

"That's jest what I was wonderin'. Last time I see him he was fannin'
it east. I took out after him--but I must 'a' missed him."

"That'll do to tell the sheriff. We want to know what you know about
the shootin'-up of Steve."

"Nothin'. I was over by the shack waiting for Pete when I thought I
heard a couple of shots. Didn't pay no attention to that--'cause Pete
was always poppin' his gun at somethin'. Then pretty soon Pete walks
in, and I go out with him and help him ketch his hoss. He don't say
much--and I don't. Then first thing I know he lights on that little
buckskin hoss of his--"

"And forgets his hat," interrupted Houck.

"Nope. He was wearin' a hat the last I seen of him."

"And ridin' a buckskin cayuse, eh? Now Cotton says it was a blue roan."

Andy laughed. "That hombre Cotton's got mighty poor eyesight. Why, he
couldn't see good enough to ketch up his own hoss. Pete told me Cotton
set out for home afoot. I didn't see him, but I'd take Pete's word
against Cotton's any time."

"Mebby you think we're takin' your word about Young Pete--and the
shootin'??

"Why not?"

"We can make you talk!" threatened Simpson.

"I reckon you could," said Andy easily. "Four to one--and my gun
hangin' over there on the saddle-horn. But suppose you did? How are
you goin' to' k