"Well, not quite. Chance rather chucked us together, Cheyenne and me,
and I think I'll travel with him for a while. I like to hear him sing."

"He likes to hear him sing!" scoffed the Senator, frowning. He sat back
in his chair, blew smoke-rings, puffed out his cheeks, and presently
rose. "Bartley, I see that you're set on chousin' around the country
with that warbling waddie--just to hear him sing, as you say. I say
you're a dam' fool.

"But you're the kind of a dam' fool I want to shake hands with. You
aren't excited and you don't play to the gallery; so if there's anything
you want on this ranch, from a posse to a pack-outfit, it's yours. And
if either of you get Sears, I'll sure chip in my share to buy his
headstone."

"I wouldn't have it inscribed until we get back," laughed Bartley.

"No; I don't think I will. Trailin' horse-thieves on their own stamping
ground ain't what an insurance company would call a good risk."






CHAPTER X

TO TRY HIM OUT