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Updated: June 28, 2025
I was jus' waterin' that Pete-horse after a hard ride." "Now look here, Mr. Drazk!" said the girl, whipping her scanty clothing about her, "if I had a gun that Pete-horse would be scheduled for his fastest travel in the next twenty seconds, and he'd end it without a rider, too. I won't have you spying about!" "Aw, don' be cross," Drazk protested.
Even as he looked she leaned her elbows on the fence and rested one of her feet on the lower rail. Drazk fancied he saw the muscles about her mouth pulling her face into little, laughing curves, but she was gazing soberly into the distance. "He's some horse, that Pete-horse," he said, taking up the subject which lay most ready to his tongue. "He's sure some horse." "I have no doubt."
"Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you to ride down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?" Transley was a leader of men. Drazk's eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. "I tell you, Boss," he said, "if there's any jackrabbits in the road they'll get tramped on." "I bet they will," said Transley, genially. "Well, you just slide down and tell Y.D. we're coming in.
"At your service, Y.D.," said George Drazk, who was in the crowd which had gathered about the rancher, his daughter, and Transley. "That Pete-horse an' me would jus' see her over the hills a-whoopin'." "I don't think it would be wise to take any extreme measures, at least, not just yet," said Transley.
"Well, f'r instance," he said, spurring his imagination into action, "there was the fellow I run down an' shot in the Cypress Hills." "Shot!" she exclaimed, and the note of admiration in her voice stirred him to further flights. "Yep," he continued, proudly. "Shot an' buried him there, right by the road where he fell. Only me an' that Pete-horse knows the spot." George sighed sentimentally.
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