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"Danged if I ain't left that Pete-horse's blanket down at the Y.D.," he exclaimed. "Oh, well, you can easily ride back for it and catch up on us this afternoon," said Linder, who was not in the least deceived. "Thanks, Lin," said Drazk. "I'll beat it down an' catch up on you this afternoon, sure," and he was off down the trail as fast as "that Pete-horse" could carry him.
Praise 'that Pete-horse, and George would ride his head off for you. He has a weakness for wanting to marry every woman he sees, but his infatuations seem harmless enough." "I know something of his weakness," Zen replied. "I have already been honored with a proposal." Transley looked in her face.
"Now perhaps you better run along to that Pete-horse. He looks lonely." "All right," he said, striding away angrily. As he walked his rage deepened, and he turned and shook his fist at her, shouting, "All right, but I'll get you yet, see? You think you're smart, and Transley thinks he's smart, but George Drazk is smarter than both of you, and he'll get you yet."
A carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify all their labor. Linder's frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the side of his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his horse, dropped beside him in the hay. "Thought I'd ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like he was goin' sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?"
There was something strangely modest in Drazk's manner. "Had yours handed to you already?" Linder managed to banter in a low voice as they swung through the gate. "Hell!" protested Mr. Drazk. "A fellow that ain't a boss or a foreman don't get a look-in. Never even seen her.... Come, you Pete-horse!" It was evident George had gone back to his first love.
She showed no disposition to move. He cautiously raised one foot and rested it on the lower rail. "It's a fine morning, ma'am," he ventured. "Rather," she replied. "Why aren't you with Mr. Transley's gang?" The question gave George an opening. "Well, you see," he said, "it's all on account of that Pete-horse. That's him down there. I rode away this morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr.
"Beat it to town on that Pete-horse of yours, George," he said. "Burn the grass on the road." "I bet I'll be ten miles on the road back when I meet my shadow goin'," said Drazk, making a spectacular leap into his saddle. "Bye, Y.D!; bye, Zen!" he shouted while he whirled his horse's head eastward and waved his hand to where they stood.
At the Y.D. George conducted the search for his horse blanket in the strangest places. It took him mainly about the yard of the house, and even to the kitchen door, where he interviewed the Chinese boy. "You catchee horse blanket around here?" he inquired, with appropriate gesticulations. "You losee hoss blanket?" "Yep." "What kind hoss blanket?" "Jus' a brown blanket for that Pete-horse."
On the way to the chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was evident that he had chosen a station with that result in view. She had passed by when she turned, whimsically. "Well, George, how's that Pete-horse?" she said. "Up an comin' all the time, Zen," he answered. She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. She had given him the opening, by calling him "George."
If one were looking for a husband, Linder had much to recommend him. He was probably less capable than Transley, but he would be easier to manage.... But who was looking for a husband? Not Zen. No, no, certainly not Zen. Then there was George Drazk, whose devotions fluctuated between "that Pete-horse" and the latest female to cross his orbit. At the thought of George Drazk Zen laughed outright.
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