American style; if you got the price, you can have anything in the
house. And tourists kind o' like to see a bunch of punchers settin'
'round smokin' and talkin' and tellin' yarns. Why, they was a lady
onct--"

"But she went back East," interrupted a listener.

"That's the way with them," said the cowboy. "They're always stickin'
their irons on some other fella's stock. Don't you pay no 'tention to
them."

Sundown shook hands with his informant, crossed to the corner of the
room, and slung his blanket-roll across his back. "Much obliged to you
fellas," he said, his lean, timorous face beaming with gratitude. "It
makes a guy feel happy when a bunch of strangers does him a good turn.
You see I ain't got the chanct to get a job, like you fellas, me bein'
a Bo. I had a pal onct--but He crossed over. He was the only one that
ever done me a good turn without my askin'. He was a college guy. I
wisht he was here so he could say thanks to you fellas classy-like.
I'm feeling them kind of thanks, but I can't say 'em."

The grins faded from some of the faces. "You ain't goin' to fan it
to-night?" asked one.

"Guess I will. You see, I'm broke, now. I'm used to travelin' any old
time, and nights ain't bad--believe me. It's mighty hot daytimes in
this here country. How far did you say?"

"Just over the hill--then a piece down the trail. You can't miss it,"
said the cowboy who had spoken first.