Two exceedingly disgruntled young cowboys saddled up and rode out to
the night-herd. They had worked all day, and now they would have to
ride herd the rest of the night, for it was nearing twelve. As relief
men they would have to hold their end of the herd until daybreak.

"I told you to shut up," complained Andy.

"I wasn't listenin' to you," said Pete,

"Yes! And this is what we git for your gittin' red-headed about a ole
Mexican sheep-herder. But, honest, Pete, you sure come clost to
gittin' yours. Gary mebby wouldn't 'a' pulled on you--but he'd 'a'
sure trimmed you if Bailey hadn't stepped in."

"He'd never put a hand on me," stated Pete.

"You mean you'd 'a' plugged 'im?"

"I'm meanin' I would."

"But, hell, Pete, you ain't no killer! And they's no use gettin'
started that way. They's plenty as would like to see Gary bumped
off--but I don't want to be the man to do it. Suppose Gary did lead
that raid on ole man Annersley? That's over and done. Annersley is
dead. You're livin'--and sure two dead men don't make a live one.
What's the good o' takin' chances like that?"

"I dunno, Andy. All I know is that when Gary started talkin' about
Montoya I commenced to git hot inside. I knowed I was a fool--but I