denly. "Didn't yuh kinda mistake that blue
roan for his twin brother, Pardner? This here cayuse is called Weaver.
I tried t' get hold of t'other one, but doggone 'em, they wouldn't
loosen up. Pardner wasn't for sale at no price, but they talked me
into buying the Weaver; they claimed he's just about as good a horse,
once he's tamed down some--and I thought, seein' I've got some real
_tamers_ on my pay-roll, I'd take a chance on him. I thought yuh knew
the horse--the way yuh read up his pedigree--till I seen yuh mount
him. Why, doggone it, yuh straddled him like yuh was just climbing a
fence! Maybe yuh know your own business best--but didn't yuh kinda
mistake him for Pardner? They're as near alike as two bullets run in
the same mold--as far as _looks_ go."

Andy got up and went to the door, and stood looking down the
dusk-muffled hill to the white blotch which was the camp; listened to
the jumble of voices still upraised in fruitless argument, and turned
to the Old Man.

"By gracious, that accounts for a whole lot," he said ambiguously.

II

"I don't see," said Cal Emmett crossly, "what's the use uh this whole
outfit trailing up to that contest. If I was Chip, I'd call the deal
off and start gathering calves. It ain't as if we had a man to ride
for that belt and purse. Ain't your leg well enough to tackle it,
Pink?"

"No," Pink answered shortly, "it ain't."

"Riding the rough bunch they've rounded up for that contest ain't
going to be any picnic," Weary defended his chum. "Cadwolloper would
need two good legs to go up against that deal."

"I wish Irish was here," Pink gloomed. "I'd be willing to back him;
all right. But it's too late now; he couldn't enter if he was here."

A voice behind them spoke challengingly. "I don't believe it would be
etiquette for one outfit to enter _two_ peelers. One's enough, ain't
it?"

The Happy Family turned coldly upon the speaker. It was Slim who
answered for them all. "I dunno as this outfit has got _any_ peeler in
that contest. By golly, it don't look like it since las' night!"

Weary was gentle, as always, but he was firm. "We kinda thought you'd
want to withdraw," he added.

Andy Green, tamer of wild ones, turned and eyed Weary curiously. One
might guess, from telltale eyes and mouth, that his calmness did not
go very deep. "I don't recollect mentioning that I was busy penning
any letter uh withdrawal," he said. "I got my sights raised to that
purse and that belt. I do