and proposed that they "have a little fun with the tall guy." One of
them drew his gun and stepped quietly behind the tramp. About to fire
into the floor he hesitated, bolstered his gun and tiptoed clumsily
back to his companions. "Got a better scheme," he whispered.

Presently Sundown, in the midst of his recital, was startled by a roar
of laughter. He turned quickly. The laughter ceased. The cowboy who
had released him from the box-car stated that he must be going, and
amid protests and several challenges to have as many "one-mores," swung
out into the night to ride thirty miles to his ranch. Then it was, as
has been said elsewhere and oft, "the plot thickened."

A rider, leaning against the bar and puffing thoughtfully at a cigar of
elephantine proportions, suddenly took his cigar from his lips, held it
poised, examined it with the eye of a connoisseur--of cattle--and
remarked slowly: "Now, why didn't I think of it? Wonder you fellas
didn't think of it. They need a cook bad! Been without a cook for a
year--and everybody fussin' 'round cookin' for himself."

Sundown caught the word "cook" and turned to, face the speaker. "I was
lookin' for a job, meself," he said, apologetically. "Did you know of
one?"

"You was!" exclaimed the cowboy. "Well, now, that's right queer. I
know where a cook is needed bad. But say, can you honest-to-Gosh
_cook_?"

"I cooked in everything from a hotel to a gradin'-camp. All I want is
a chanct."