ttle feller
like me--an' he never give me no warnin', neither. You jest wait,
I'll--"

"Aw, shut up!" growled Old Man Reavis, whose soul had long been
harrowed by Lightfoot's festive ways. "He give you plenty of warnin',
if you'd only listen. Some people have to swallow a few front teeth
before they kin learn anythin'."

"Well, what call did he have to jump on me like that?" protested
Lightfoot. "I wasn't doin' nothin'."

"No, nothin' but singin' bawdy songs about his girl," sneered Reavis
sarcastically.

"His girl, rats!" retorted the cowboy, vainglorious even in defeat,
"she's my girl, if she's anybody's!"

"Well, about _your_ girl then, you dirty brute!" snarled the old man,
suddenly assuming a high moral plane for his utter annihilation.
"You're a disgrace to the outfit, Bill Lightfoot," he added, with
conviction. "I'm ashamed of ye."

"That's right," chimed in the Clark boys, whose sensibilities had
likewise been harassed; and with all the world against him Bill
Lightfoot retired in a huff to his blankets. So the _rodeo_ ended as
it had begun, in disaster, bickering, and bad blood, and no man
rightly knew from whence their misfortune came. Perhaps the planets in
their spheres had cast a malign influence upon them, or maybe the bell
mare had cast a shoe. Anyhow they had started off the wrong foot and,
whatever the cause, the times were certainly not auspicious for
matters of importance, love-making, or the bringing together of the
estranged. Let whatsoever high-priced astrologer cast his horoscope
for good, Saturn was swinging low above the earth and dealing especial
misery to the Four Peaks; and on top of it all the word came that old
Bill Johnson, after shooting up the sheep camps, had gone crazy and
taken to the hills.

For a week, Creede and Hardy dawdled about the place, patching up the
gates and fences and cursing the very name of sheep. A spirit of
unrest hovered over the place, a brooding silence which spoke only of
Tommy and those who were gone, and the two partners eyed each other
furtively, each deep in his own thoughts. At last when he could stand
it no longer Creede went over to the corner, and dug up his money.

"I'm goin' to town," he said briefly.

"All right," responded Hardy; and then, after meditating a while, he
added: "I'll send down some letters by you."

Late that evening, after he had written a long letter to Lucy and a
short one to his father, he sat at the desk where he had fo