himself. When someone
asked him if he had quit the outfit, he had returned gruffly that the
Flying U was not the only cow-outfit in the country, and let the
questioner interpret it as he liked. When the train that had its nose
pointed to the southwest slid into town, Andy did not step on, as had
been his intention. He remained idly leaning over the bar in Rusty
Brown's place, and gave no heed. Later, when the eastbound came
schreeching through at midnight, it found Andy Green on the platform
with his saddle, bridle, chaps, quirt and spurs neatly sacked, and
with a ticket for Havre in his pocket. So the wise ones said that they
knew Andy would never have the nerve to show up at the fair, after the
fluke he had made at the Flying U ranch, and those whose pockets were
not interested considered it a very good joke.

At Havre, Andy bought another ticket and checked the sack which held
his riding outfit; the ticket had Great Falls printed on it in bold,
black lettering. So that he was twelve hours late in reaching his
original destination, and to avoid unwelcome discovery and comment he
took the sleeper and immediately ordered his berth made up, that he
might pass through Dry Lake behind the sheltering folds of the berth
curtains. Not that there was need of this elaborate subterfuge. He was
simply mad clear through and did not want to see or hear the voice of
any man he knew. Besides, the days when he had danced in spangled
tights upon the broad, gray rump of a galloping horse while a
sober-clothed man in the middle of the ring cracked a whip and yelped
commands, had bred in him the unconscious love of a spectacular entry
and a dramatic finish.

That is why he sought out the most obscure rooming house that gave any
promise of decency and comfort, and stayed off Central Avenue and away
from its loitering groups of range dwellers who might know him. That
is why he hired a horse and rode early and alone to the fair grounds
on the opening day, and avoided, by a roundabout trail a certain
splotch of gray-white against the brown of the prairie, which he knew
instinctively to be the camp of the Flying U outfit, which had made
good time and were located to their liking near the river. Andy felt a
tightening of the chest when he saw the familiar tents, and kicked his
hired horse ill-naturedly in the ribs. It was all so different from
what he had thought it would be.

In those last two weeks, he had pictured himself riding vainglori