e was to be regarded as not
sufficiently well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot water;
if he took it good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit; but in
either case he didn't get his hat without begging or fighting for
it. This was a recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was not
intended as an insult.

Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose. Punching Lefty playfully in
the ribs he passed his hands behind that person's back. Not finding the
lost head-gear he laughed and, tripping Lefty up, fell with him and,
reaching up on the table for his glass, poured the contents down Lefty's
back and arose.

"Yu son-of-a-gun!" indignantly wailed that unfortunate. "Gee, it feels
funny," he added, grinning as he pulled the wet shirt away from his
spine.

"Well, I've got to be amblin'," said Frenchy, totally ignoring the
loss of his hat. "Goin' down to Buckskin," he offered, and then asked,
"When's yore cook comin'?"

"Day after to-morrow, if he don't get loaded," replied Tex.

"Who is he?"

"A one-eyed Mexican--Quiensabe Antonio."

"I used to know him. He's a heck of a cook. Dished up th' grub one
season when I was punchin' for th' Tin-Cup up in Montana," replied
Frenchy.

"Oh, he kin cook now, all right." replied Waffles.

"That's about all he can cook. Useter wash his knives in th' coffee pot
an' blow on di' tins. I chased him a mile one night for leavin' sand in
th' skillet. Yu can have him--I don't envy yu none whatever.

"He don't sand no skillet when little Tenspot's around," assured that
person, slapping his holster. "Does he, Lefty?"

"If he does, yu oughter be lynched," consoled Lefty.

"Well, so long," remarked Frenchy, riding off to a small store, where he
bought a cheap sombrero.

Frenchy was a jack-of-all-trades, having been cow-puncher, prospector,
proprietor of a "hotel" in Albuquerque, foreman of a ranch, sheriff,
and at one time had played angel to a venturesome but poor show troupe.
Beside his versatility he was well known as the man who took the stage
through the Sioux country when no one else volunteered. He could shoot
with the best, but his one pride was the brand of poker he handed out.
Furthermore, he had never been known to take an unjust advantage over
any man and, on the contrary, had frequently voluntarily handicapped
himself to make the event more interesting. But he must not be classed
as being hampered with self-restraint.

His reasons for making this tr