ned, a bit shamefaced, toward him.

"Aw, I betche--" began Happy.

"That's what I'm here for," cut in Andy. "What I've got goes
up--saddle, spurs--_all_ I've got. You've done a lot uh mourning, now
here's a chance to break even on _me_. Speak up."

The Happy Family hesitated.

"I guess I'll stay out," dimpled Pink. "I don't just savvy your play,
Andy, and if I lose on yuh--why, it won't be the first time I ever
went broke."

"Well, by golly, _I'll_ take a chance," bellowed Slim, whose voice was
ever pitched to carry long distances in a high wind. "I'll bet yuh
fifty dollars yuh don't pull down that belt or purse. By golly,
there's two or three men here that can _ride_."

"There's only one that'll be the real star," smiled Andy with
unashamed egotism. "Happy, how rich do _you_ want to get off me?"

Happy said a good deal and "betche" several things would
happen--things utterly inconsistent with one another. In the end, Andy
pinned him down to twenty dollars against Andy's silver-mounted
spurs--which was almost a third more than the spurs were worth; but
Andy had no sympathy for Happy Jack and stuck to the price doggedly
until Happy gave in.

Jack Bates advertised his lack of faith in Andy ten dollars worth, and
Cal Emmett did the same. Irish, coming in on the afternoon train and
drifting instinctively to the vicinity of the Happy Family, cursed
them all impartially for a bunch of quitters, slapped Andy on the back
and with characteristic impetuosity offered a hundred dollars to
anybody who dared take him up, that Andy would win. And this after he
had heard the tale of the blue roan and before they told him about the
two rides already made in the contest.

It is true that Happy Jack endeavored to expostulate, but Irish glared
at him in a way to make Happy squirm and stammer incoherently.

"I've heard all about it," Irish cut in, "and I don't have to hear any
more. I know a rider when I see one, and my money's on Andy from start
to finish. You make me sick. Weary, have _you_ gone against our man?"
The tone was a challenge in itself.

Weary grinned goodnaturedly. "I haven't pulled down any bets," he
answered mildly, "and I haven't put up my last cent and don't intend
to. I'm an engaged young man." He shrugged his shoulders to point the
moral. "I sure do hope Andy'll win out," he added simply.

"_Hope_? Why, damn it, yuh _know_ he'll win!" stormed Irish.

Men in their vicinity caught the belligerence of the t