"
"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."
"And he can take his medicine," asserted another cowboy. "He was mad
enough to kill that hoss and the bunch of us--but he held her down and
bellied up to us like a real one. Looks like he had kind of a Injun
streak in him."
Bailey nodded. "Wish I had a job for the kid. He would make good.
He's been driftin' round the country with old man Montoya for a couple
of years. Old man Annersley picked him up down to Concho. The kid was
with a horse-trader.
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