"Where have you planted them, Pat?"

"Oh, hell! They ain't _planted_ yet. We're just figuring. Now, up Las
Cruces way--"

"Let's go back to the cantina and talk it out. There goes Mexico leading
a horse with an empty saddle. I guess the boy will be all right in the
office."

"Was the kid mixed up in your getaway?"

"Yes. And he's a good boy."

"Well, he's in dam' bad company. Now, Jack says you got to plant 'em in
hills and irrigate. I aim to just drill 'em in and let the A'mighty do
the rest. What do you think?"

"I think you're getting worse as you grow older, Pat. Say, did you ever
get track of that roan mare you lost up at Las Cruces?"

"Yes, I got her back."

"Speaking of horses, I saw a pinto down in Sonora--"

Just then the assistant joined them, and they sauntered to the cantina.
Dex, tied at the rail, turned and gazed at them. Waring took the morral
of grain from the saddle, and, slipping Dex's bridle, adjusted it.

The rugged, lean face of the collector beamed. "I wondered if you