"You're sportin' a right good rig," said the foreman.

"I aim to," said Pete quickly. "If I hadn't gone broke buyin' it, I'd
ride up here on a real hoss."

"Things are pretty slack right now," said Bailey. "Glad to see
you--but they won't be nothin' doin' till fall. Won't you set down?
We're goin' to eat right soon."

"Thanks. I ain't a-missin' a chanct to eat. And I reckon ole Rowdy
there could do somethin' in that line hisself."

Bailey smiled. "Turn your horse into the corral. Better pack your
saddle over here. That pup will chew them new latigos if he gets near
it."

"That doggone pup come mighty nigh bustin' me,"--and Pete smiled for
the first time since arriving. "But the pup was havin' a good time,
anyhow."

"Say, I want to shake with you!" said a big puncher, rising and
sticking out a strong, hairy hand.

Pete's face expressed surprise. "Why--sure!" he stammered, not
realizing that his smiling reference to the pup had won him a friend.

"He's sure a hard-boiled kid," said one of the men as Pete unsaddled
and led Rowdy to the corral. "Did you catch his eye? Black--and
shinin'; plumb full of deviltry--down in deep. That kid's had to hit
some hard spots afore he growed to where he is."