rail. And during the journey Young Pete was unusually
silent, wondering just what his pop planned to do.

At the store Annersley privately explained the situation to the
storekeeper. Then he told Young Pete that he would leave him there for
a few days as he was "goin' over north a spell."

Young Pete studied the old man with bright, blinking eyes that
questioned the truth of this statement. His pop had never lied to him,
and although Pete suspected what was in the wind, he had no ground for
argument. Annersley was a trifle surprised that the boy consented to
stay without demur. Annersley might have known that Young Pete's very
silence was significant; but the old man was troubled and only too glad
to find his young partner so amenable to his suggestion. When
Annersley left the store Young Pete's "So-long, pop," was as casual as
sunshine, but his tough little heart was thumping with restrained
excitement. He knew that his pop feared trouble and wished to face it
alone.

Pete allowed a reasonable length of time to elapse and then approached
the storekeeper. "Gimme a box of thirty-thirties," he said, fishing up
some silver from his overall pocket.

"Where'd you get all that money, Pete?"

"Why, I done stuck up the fo'man of the T-Bar-T on pay-day and made him
shell out," said Pete.

The storekeeper grinned. "Here you be. Goin' huntin'?"

"Uh-huh. Huntin' snakes."

"Honest, now! Where'd you git the change?"

"My wages!" said Young Pete proudly. "Pop is givin' me a dollar a week
for helpin' him. We're pardners."

"Your pop is right good to you, ain't he?"

"You bet! And he can lick any ole bunch of cow-chasers in this
country. Somebody's goin' to git hurt if they monkey with him!"

"Where 'd you get the idea anybody was going to monkey with your dad?"

Young Pete felt that he had been incautious. He refused to talk
further, despite the storekeeper's friendly questioning. Instead, the
boy roamed about the store, inspecting and commenting upon saddlery,
guns, canned goods, ready-made clothing, and showcase trinkets, his
ears alert for every word exchanged by the storekeeper and a chance
customer. Presently two cowboys clumped in, joshed with the
store-keeper, bought tobacco and ammunition--a most usual procedure,
and clumped out again. Young Pete strolled to the door and watched
them enter the adobe saloon across the way--Tony's Place--the
rendezvous of the riders of the high mesas. Again a