"It's got it beat a mile!" Willie flashed back, harshly.

"Here you!" exclaimed Stover, "no arguments. We all have our
favorites, and it ain't up to no individual to force his likes
and dislikes down no other feller's throat." The two men he
addressed mounted their broncos stiffly.

"I repeat," said Willie: "_The Holy City_, as sung by Mrs.
Melby, is the swellest tune that ever hit these parts."

Carara muttered something in Spanish which the others could not
understand.

"They're all fine pieces," Stover observed, placatingly, when
fairly out of hearing of the ranch-houses. "You boys have each
got your preference. Cloudy, bein' an Injun, has got his, and I
rise to state that I like that monologue, _Silas on Fifth
Avenoo_, better than all of 'em, which ain't nothin' ag'inst
my judgment nor yours. When Silas says, 'The girl opened her
valise, took our her purse, closed her valise, opened her purse,
took out a dime, closed her purse, opened her valise, put in her
purse, closed her valise, give the dime to the conductor, got a
nickel in change, then opened her valise, took out her purse,
closed her valise-'" Stover began to rock in his saddle, then
burst into a loud guffaw, followed by his companions. "Gosh!
That's awful funny!"

"_Si! si!_" acknowledged Carara, his white teeth showing
through the gloom.