"Nope. I don't need no horse. All I need is a job."

"All right. You'd have to travel thirty miles either way--to get out
of here. I won't be there, but you can tell my foreman, Bud Shoop,
that I sent you in."

"And I'll jest be tellin' him that 'bout twelve, to-morrow. I sure
wisht Billy was here. He'd sure be glad to know his ole pal was
cookin' for his brother. Me for the shavin's. And say, thanks,
pardner. Reckon they ain't all jokers in Arizona."

"No. There are a few that can't make or take one," said Corliss.
"Hope you'll make the ranch all right."

"I'm there! Next to cookin' and writin' po'try, walkin' is me long
suit."




CHAPTER IV

PIE; AND SEPTEMBER MORN

When a Westerner, a native-born son of the outlands, likes a man, he
likes him. That is all there is to it. His horses, blankets, money,
provender, and even his saddle are at his friend's disposal. If the
friend prove worthy,--and your Westerner is shrewd,--a lifelong
friendship is the result. If the friend prove unworthy, it is well for