if he were on to his job, amount to more than his wages. Tex did not
consider that he owed the Rolling R anything whatever save a certain
number of days' work in each month that he drew a pay check. He sold
Sudden his time and his skill in the saddle--a month of it for fifty
dollars. But if he could double that fifty without harm to himself, Tex
was not going to split any hairs over the method.

Tex was not displaying any great genius when he edged the boys on to
tease Johnny beyond the limit of that young man's endurance, or when he
tattled to Mary V a slighting remark about her ability as a poet. Tex was
merely carrying out an idea which had come to him when he saw Johnny with
his hands full of aircraft literature. If it worked, all right. If it
didn't work, Johnny would not be on the Rolling R pay roll any longer,
but Tex would not have lost anything. It would be convenient to have
Johnny down at Sinkhole Camp, shirking his job while he fiddled around
with his flying bug. Tex believed he knew how he could keep the bug very
active, and Johnny very much engrossed with it--down at Sinkhole Camp. It
was simple enough, and worth the slight effort Tex was making.

So there was Johnny Jewel with his saddle and bridle and suitcase and
chaps, waiting out by the mail box for the stage. And there came Sudden,
driving back from the railroad--Tex knew he was expected back that
forenoon--and reaching the gate before the stage had come in sight
around the southwest spur of the ridge it could not cross. Sudden liked
Johnny--and Tex knew that too. (Tex made it his business to know a good
deal which had nothing to do with his legitimate work.) And good riders
who did not get drunk every chance that offered were not to be hired
every day in the week.

Johnny opened the gate, but Sudden did not drive through. He stopped and