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Stealing our horses to sell to the Mexicans, if you please, and selling his own to the government mostly but some to the Mexicans, too, I suppose. And nobody suspecting a thing all the while, and Tex in with them and all. And if you hadn't stampeded the horses so they came back to the line, and the boys rounded them up, dad would have lost a lot more than he did.
With a practised jolt of the bottle Tex passed down the line, filling each heavy tumbler to the brim; he poured a thin one for himself and beckoned in his roustabout to swell the count but still there was an empty glass. There was one man over in the corner who had declined to drink.
He was the only one of the whole outfit had the guts to tend Jimmy Trimble when he got the spotted fever nursed him back to good as ever, too, after the Doc had him billed through fer yonder." Cinnabar Joe turned and brought his fist down on the bar. "I'll do it!" he gritted. "Purdy'll think Tex switched the drinks on me. Only I hope he wasn't lyin' about that there stuff.
"Dan Whistling Dan," he said, "I'm seeing you a long, long ways off. Partner, I'm done for." The whole body of Dan stiffened. "Done? Tex, you can't be! Five minutes ago you sat at that there table, smilin' an' talkin'!" "It doesn't take five minutes. Half a second can take a man all the way to hell!" "If you're goin', pal, if you goin', Tex, take one comfort along with you!
He had found himself and now he acknowledged no superior in anything. On his way south he met and talked with men who had known him, the old Tex, in the days when he had made his living precariously. They did not recognize him behind his beard, and he was content to let the oversight pass.
At the worst it would merely mean anticipating a little; for if he did succeed in solving the problem of Tex Lynch's motives, the next and final step would naturally be up to the sheriff. "I get yuh," said Tenny, nodding. "That's true enough. Well, what do you want me to do?" Buck told him briefly, and the foreman's eyes twinkled. "That's some order," he commented.
The woodwork splintered above the outlaw's head; Tex Calder seemed to laugh, but his lips made no sound. He pitched forward on his face. "He fired that bullet," said Silent, "after mine hit him." Then he leaped back through the door. "Keep 'em back one minute, Lee, an' then after me!" he said as he ran. Haines stood in the door with folded arms. He knew that no one would dare to move a hand.
Bud chanted vain-gloriously. "How's that, Skyrider? Ain't that purty fair po'try?" "It don't fit into the tune with a cuss," Tex criticized jealously. "Pass over that po'try of Johnny's. Yo' all ain't needin' it not if you aims to make up yore own words." "C'm 'ere! You wall-eyed weiner-wurst!" Johnny harshly addressed the horse he was after.
Nevertheless for some as yet inscrutable reason the river served as a barrier to certain insects which are menaces to the cattlemen. With me on the gunboat was an old Western friend, Tex Rickard, of the Panhandle and Alaska and various places in between. He now has a large tract of land and some thirty-five thousand head of cattle in the Chaco, opposite Concepcion, at which city he was to stop.
"Now tell me, Uncle Tex; tell me as we go just how it was and show me the places." The plainsman did not answer and she urged again: "Please, Uncle Tex, tell me. I want to see it all just as it happened. I feel that I must, don't you understand?"
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