Pete waved
his hand in a gesture which meant, "Keep goin'." The Mexican youth
kept going.
"I ain't wishin' old Jose any hard luck," muttered Pete, "but I said
I'd send a boy--and that there walkin' dream _looks_ like one, anyhow.
'Oh, manana!'" he snorted. "Mexicans is mostly figurin' out to-day
what they 're goin' to do to-morrow, and they never git through
figurin'. I dunno who my father and mother was, but I know one
thing--they wa'n't Mexicans."
CHAPTER IX
ROWDY--AND BLUE SMOKE
It has been said that Necessity is the mother of Invention--well, it
goes without saying that the cowboy is the father, and Pete was closely
related to these progenitors of that most necessary adjunct of success.
Moreover, he could have boasted a coat of arms had he been at all
familiar with heraldry and obliged to declare himself.
[Illustration: Pete.]
A pinto cayuse rampant; a longhorn steer regardant; two sad-eyed,
unbranded calves couchant--one in each corner of the shield to kind of
balance her up; gules, several clumps of something representing
sagebrush; and possibly a rattlesnake coiled beneath the sagebrush and
described as "repellent" and holding in his open jaws a streaming motto
reading, "I'm a-comin'.
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