arse he got just what was comin' to him.
There's only me an' the pilgrim, now--an' it's me an' him for it. I
ain't plumb got the girl sized up yet. If she's straight--all right.
She'll stay straight. If she ain't---- They say everything's fair in
love an' war, an' bein' as it's my deal the pilgrim's got to go up
against a stacked deck. An' if things works out right, believe me,
he's a-goin' to know he's be'n somewhere by the time he gets back--if
he ever does get back."

For the third time that evening he entered the dance-hall and avoiding
the dancers made his way leisurely toward the bar that ran along one
side of the room.

"Hello, Tex, ain't dancin'? Say, they're tellin' how a pilgrim killed
Jack Purdy. Yes, an' they got him locked up down in the
wool-warehouse. What's yourn?" The cowboy ranged himself beside the
Texan.

"A little red liquor, I reckon." The men poured their drinks and the
Texan glanced toward the other: "You ain't mournin' none over Purdy,
Curly?"

"Who, me?" the man laughed. "Not what you c'd notice, I ain't. An'
they's plenty others ain't, too. I don't hear no lamentations wailin'
a-bustin' in on the festchivities. It was over the pilgrim's girl.
They say how Purdy tried to----"

"Yes, he did. But the pilgrim got there first. I been thinkin',
Curly. It's plumb shameful for to hold the pilgrim for doin' what one
of us would of had to do sooner or later. Choteau County has stood for
him about as long as it could, an' a damn sight longer than it ought
to. His work was gettin' so rotten it stunk, I could tell you about a
sage-brush corral an' some runnin'-iron work over on the south
slope----"

"Yes," broke in the other, "an' there's a hell of a lot of I X an' Bear
Paw Pool cows that show'd up, brandin' time, 'thout no calves."

The Texan nodded: "Exactly. Now, what I was goin' on to say: The grand
jury don't set for a couple or three months yet. An' when they do,
they'll turn the pilgrim loose so quick it'll make yer head swim.
Then, there's the girl. They'll hold her for a witness--not that
they'd have to, 'cause she'll stay on her own hook. Now what's the use
of them bein' took down to Benton an' stuck in jail? Drink up, an'
have another."

"Not none," agreed Curly, as he measured out his liquor to an imaginary
line half-way up the glass. "But how'd you figger to fix it?"

"Well," answered the Texan, as his lips twisted into their peculiar
smile; "we might get