He ate pie and said nothing. When he had
finished the pie, he rolled a cigarette and smoked, in huge content.
The cowboys glanced at one another and grinned.
"Well," said Bailey presently; "what's the answer?"
Pete grinned. "Misses Bailey says to tell you fellas to keep on
starvin' to death. It'll save cookin'."
"I move that we get one square before we cross over," said Bailey,
rising. "Come on, boys. I can smell twelve o'clock comin' from the
kitchen."
CHAPTER X
"TURN HIM LOOSE!"
Blue Smoke was one of those unfortunate animals known as an outlaw. He
was a blue roan with a black stripe down his back, a tough, strong
pony, with a white-rimmed eye as uncompromising as the muzzle of a
cocked gun. He was of no special use as a cow-pony and was kept about
the ranch merely because he happened to belong to the Concho caviayard.
It took a wise horse and two good men to get a saddle on him when some
aspiring newcomer intimated that he could ride anything with hair on
it. He was the inevitable test of the new man. No one as yet had
ridden him to a finish; nor was it expected.
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