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by thā€™ man that saw him do it.ā€

ā€œWho was that?ā€ asked Pop, indignant because he had not been told about it before.

ā€œYoā€™re a regā€™lar old woman,ā€ jeered Charley. ā€œYou can guess it.ā€

ā€œFunny he didnā€™t tell me,ā€ sighed Pop.

ā€œMebby he reckoned it was his own business,ā€ retorted Charley. ā€œMebby he knowed youā€™d blurt it out to everybody you saw.ā€

ā€œI keep things under my belt!ā€

ā€œYes; food anā€™ likker,ā€ chuckled Charley, enjoying himself. ā€œIf nobody come around for you to tell yore gossip to, cussed if you wouldnā€™t tell it to thā€™ sky, night anā€™ morninā€™, like a ki-yote.ā€

ā€œSo heā€™s still prospectinā€™,ā€ laughed Ackerman. ā€œHeā€™ll starve to death.ā€

ā€œI ainā€™t so shore about that,ā€ said Charley. ā€œHe Weighed his gold on my scales anā€™ it was one pound anā€™ eleven ounces. It was all gold, too; I saw it.ā€

ā€œHe-he-he!ā€ chuckled Pop. ā€œIf yore scales said one eleven he only had about half a pound. Them scales are worse than a cold deck.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s a lie; anā€™ you know it! Them scales are honest!ā€

ā€œThen they ainā€™t ā€˜pervious to their ā€˜sociations,ā€ grinned Pop. He reached behind him, picked up a package and turned to Ackerman. ā€œDid you say you was goinā€™ near thā€™ Circle S?ā€ he inquired.

ā€œHe did not,ā€ said Charley gleefully. ā€œDidnā€™t I say you was an old woman?ā€

Ackerman laughed, winked at Charley and went out; and the two cronies listened to the rapidly dying hoofbeats.

Pop wheeled and glared at his friend. ā€œNow youā€™ve done it! Ainā€™t you got no sense, tellinā€™ him where Nelson is?ā€

ā€œIf I had much I wouldnā€™t hang out with you,ā€ grinned Charley. ā€œBut I got a little; anā€™ if he crosses thā€™ river he wonā€™t find Nelson. A Circle S puncher saw him hoofinā€™ it into thā€™ southwest. Quien sabe?ā€

ā€œSometimes you do have a spark of common sense,ā€ said Pop. ā€œSort of a glimmer. Itā€™s real noticeable in you when it shows at all, just like a match looks prominent in thā€™ dark. Pick up them cards anā€™ donā€™t do no more fancy countinā€™.ā€

ā€œCountinā€™ wouldnā€™t do me no good while yoā€™re multiplyinā€™. Get agoinā€™; I got to get my four bits back before I go home.ā€

Well to the south of the two friends in Hastings, Jim Ackerman loped steadily ahead, debating several things; and as he neared the Circle S range a man suddenly arose from behind a rock. There was nothing threatening about this gentleman except, perhaps, his sudden and unexpected appearance; but Ackermanā€™s gun had him covered as soon as his head showed.

ā€œTurn it off me, I said the man behind the rock, a note of pained injury in his voice. ā€œMy intentions are honorable; anā€™ plumb peaceful. Yoā€™re most scandalous suspicious.ā€

Ackerman smiled grimly. ā€œMebby I am; but habit is strong. Anā€™ one of my worst habits is suspicion. Whatā€™s thā€™ idea of this jack-in-thā€™-box proceedinā€™ of yourn? Youā€™ve shore got funny ways; anā€™ plumb dangerous ones.ā€

ā€œReckon mebby it does look that way,ā€ said the man behind the rock. ā€œI neglects caution. I shouldā€™ve covered you first anā€™ then popped up. That shows how plumb innercent anā€™ peaceful I am. Yore nameā€™s Jim Ackerman, ainā€™t it?ā€

ā€œYou canā€™t allus tell,ā€ replied Ackerman.

ā€œThatā€™s where yoā€™re figgerinā€™ wrong. I can allus tell. Havinā€™ told me yore name, Iā€™ll tell you mine. Iā€™m Pete Carson, known hereabouts anā€™ elsewhere as Long Pete. Some calls me Long-winded Pete; but itā€™s all thā€™ same to me. Pint that a little mite more to thā€™ sky; thank you, sir. I was punchinā€™ for thā€™ Circle S, but thā€™ Circle S punched me; then it fired me. Iā€™ve got to eat, so I got to work. Thā€™ Long T ainā€™t hirinā€™; anā€™ Iā€™d starve before Iā€™d work for Logan. I ainā€™t no slave, not me.

ā€œIā€™m settinā€™ there in thā€™ sun whittlinā€™ a stick anā€™ arguinā€™ with myself. I was gettinā€™ thā€™ worst of it when I hears yore noble cayuse. Not beinā€™ curious I riz up instanter anā€™ looked plumb into yore gun just a little mite higher; ah, much obliged.ā€

ā€œWhatā€™s all this to me?ā€ demanded Ackerman impatiently.

ā€œThatā€™s what Iā€™m aiminā€™ to find out. I saw you cominā€™ up a little more; thank you. Then I think I got a new chance. I want a job anā€™ I want it bad. Hold it in yore left hand: yore right hand is tired, anā€™ saggin I . Any chance for a close-mouthed man up yore way? One that does as heā€™s told, asks no questions, anā€™ ainā€™t particular what kind of a job it is? Better let me hold that; I can see yoā€™re gettinā€™ tired. Thank you, sir. Iā€™m desperate, anā€™ Iā€™m hungry. What you say? Speak right out Iā€™m a grand listener.ā€

Ackerman grunted. ā€œHuh! I ainā€™t got nothinā€™ to say about hirinā€™ thā€™ men where I work. As a matter of fact we ainā€™t got work enough for another man. Anā€™ I reckon you donā€™t understand nothinā€™ about farminā€™, even in a small way; but if yoā€™re hungry, why, I can fix that right soon. Got a cayuse?ā€

Pete nodded emphatically. ā€œI allus manage to keep a cayuse, no matter how bad things busts; a cayuse, my saddle, anā€™ a gun. Why?ā€

ā€œClimb onto it anā€™ come along with me. Iā€™m aiminā€™ to make camp as soon as I run across water. Thatā€™s a purty good animal you got.ā€

ā€œYes; looks good,ā€ grunted Long Pete; ā€œbut it ainā€™t. Itā€™s a deceivinā€™ critter. Iā€™m yore scout. Thereā€ a crick half a mile west of here. Iā€™m that famished Iā€™m faint. Just a little more anā€™ Iā€™d ā€˜aā€™ cooked me a square meal off of one of thā€™ yearlinā€™s that wander on thā€™ edge of thā€™ range. That was what I was thinkinā€™ over when I heard you.ā€

ā€œYou shouldnā€™t do a thing like that!ā€ exclaimed Ackerman severely. ā€œBesides, you shouldnā€™t talk about it. Anā€™ if you do it youā€™ll get shot or lynched.ā€

ā€œA man does lots of things he shouldnā€™t. Anā€™ ā€˜s for talkinā€™, Iā€™m thā€™ most safe talker you ever met I allus know where Iā€™m talkinā€™, what Iā€™m talkinā€™ about, anā€™ who Iā€™m talkinā€™ to. Now, as I figger it, Iā€™d rather get shot or lynched than starve in a land of beef. What do I care about killinā€™ another manā€™s cows? Iā€™m plumb sick of workinā€™ on a string that some bullheaded foreman can break; anā€™ Iā€™m most awful sick of workinā€™ for wages. I ainā€™t no hired man, dā€”n it! What I wants is an equal share in what I earns. Anā€™ you can believe me, Mister Man, I ainā€™t noways particular what thā€™ work is. I never did have no respect for a man that gambled for pennies. No tinhorn never amounted to nothinā€™. He canā€™t lose much; but yoā€™re cussed right he canā€™t win much, neither. If thā€™ stakes are high anā€™ thā€™ breaks anywhere near equal, Iā€™ll risk my last dollar or my last breath.

ā€œAs to what I am, you lissen to me: When Iā€™m sober I stays strictly sober, for months at a time; anā€™ when Iā€™m drunk I likeways stays drunk for days at a time. I ainā€™t like some I knows of, half drunk most of thā€™ time anā€™ never really sober. Me, I just serves notice that Iā€™m goinā€™ off on a bender, anā€™ I goes. Anā€™ when I comes back Iā€™m sober all thā€™ way through. Hereā€™s thā€™ crick. Anā€™ I never get drunk when thereā€™s work to be did. You can put up that Colt now anā€™ watch me get a fire goinā€™ that wonā€™t show a light for any distance or throw much smoke. I tell you I know my business.ā€

Ackerman unpacked and turned the horses loose to graze, and by the time he was ready to start cooking, Long Pete had a fire going in a little hollow near the water.

ā€œNow you just set down anā€™ watch me cavort anā€™ prance,ā€ quoth Long Pete pleasantly. ā€œReckon mebby you might not move fast enough for my empty belly. Chuck me that flour bag Iā€™m a regā€™lar cook, I am. You just set there anā€™ keep right on thinkinā€™ about me; weigh me calm an I judicial.ā€

Ackerman smiled, leaned back against his saddle and obeyed his verbose companion, pondering over what his deft guest had said. He knew of Long Pete by hearsay, and he now marshaled the knowledge in slow and orderly review before his mind.

The cook handed him a pan, a tin cup, and a knife, fork, and spoon. Then he waved at the pan. ā€œTake all you want of this grub, an I take it now. This beinā€™ a one-man outfit Iā€™ll eat off thā€™ cookinā€™ utensils utensils sounds misleading donā€™t it? somethinā€™ like tonsils or a disease. Now I warn you: dig in deep anā€™ take all you kin eat, for there wonā€™t be no second helpinā€™ after I gets my holt. Want yore coffee now?ā€

ā€œLater, I reckon,ā€ smiled Ackerman. ā€œYou shore can cook. Better take thā€™ cup first if you wants yore coffee now. Iā€™ll use it later.ā€

ā€œSoon as we open one of them cans Iā€™ll have a cup of my own, anā€™ weā€™re goinā€™ to open one tomorrow,ā€ grinned Long Pete, opening his pocketknife and attacking the frying pan. When the pan had been cleaned of the last morsel Pete emptied the cup, washed it in the creek, refilled it and handed it to his companion. Rolling a cigarette with one hand, he lit it, inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of smoke toward the sky.

ā€œCuss me if that donā€™t hit me plumb center,ā€ he chuckled. ā€œAnā€™ plumb center is thā€™ place for it. Iā€™d ruther eat my own cookinā€™ in thā€™ open, than feed in thā€™ house after some dirty cook got through messin I with thā€™ grub. At first I thought you was another prospector; but when I looked close I saw that you didnā€™t have thā€™ rest of thā€™ outfit. Now donā€™t you say nothinā€™. I ainā€™t lookinā€™ for no information; Iā€™m givinā€™ it. You see, I shoots off my mouth regardless, for Iā€™m a great talker when Iā€™m sober; anā€™ tight as a freshwater clam when Iā€™m drunk. A whiskered old ram of a sky-pilot once told me that I was thā€™ most garrulous man heā€™d ever met up with. After I let him up he explained what garrulous means; anā€™ thā€™ word sort of stuck in my memory. I know it stuck in his; heā€™ll never forget it.ā€

Ackerman coughed up some coffee. ā€œHe wonā€™t,ā€ he gasped. ā€œBut what made you think I might be prospectinā€™?ā€

ā€œJust a little superstition of mine,ā€ explained Long Pete. ā€œThereā€™s some coffee runninā€™ down yore neck. You never ought to laugh when yoā€™re drinkinā€™. Good thing it wasnā€™t whiskey. Things allus comes in bunches. That purty near allus holds good, as mcbby youā€™ve noticed. I have. I saw one prospector, a cowpuncher gone loco, hoofinā€™ it in thā€™ dirt alongside his loaded cayuse. Of thā€™ two I thinks most of thā€™ cayuse. It was a black, of thoroughbred strain, steppinā€™ high anā€™ disdainful, with more intelligence blazinā€™ out of its big eyes than its master ever had. So when I sees you ridinā€™ along with a big pack I reckoned mebby that you must ā€˜aā€™ eat some of thā€™ same weed anā€™ had got thā€™ same kind of hallucernations. Theyā€™s different kinds, you know. But this is once thā€™ rule fails. There wonā€™t be no bunch of prospectors, anā€™ I know why; but thatā€™s a secret. There wonā€™t be no third.ā€

Ackerman looked keenly at him through narrowed lids, speculating, wondering, puzzled. Then he leaned back and yawned. ā€œIs there a prospector down here?ā€ he asked incredulously. ā€œYou donā€™t mean it.ā€

Long Pete coolly looked him over from boots to sombrero. ā€œIā€™m duly grateful for this sumptious feed, anā€™

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