"Oh, A'm fol' you long tam'. A'm t'ink mebbe-so you git l'il too mooch
hooch an' som'one try for do you oop. A'm p'ek in de door an' seen Fatty
gon' shoot you. Dat mak' me mad lak hell, an' A'm run oop an' keek heem
so hard I kin on hees belly. You ma frien'. A'm no lak I seen you git
keel."

The Texan nodded. "I see. You're a damn good Injun, Bat, an' I ain't
got no kick comin' onto the way you took charge of proceedin's. But you
sure raised hell when you stole that horse. They's prob'ly about
thirty-seven men an' a sheriff a-combin' these here hills fer us at this
partic'lar minute an' when they catch us----"

The half-breed laughed. "Dem no ketch. We com' feefty mile. Dat leetle
hoss she damn good hoss. We got de two bes' hoss. We ke'p goin' dey no
ketch. 'Spose dey do ketch. Me, A'm tell 'em A'm steal dat hoss an' you
not know nuthin' 'bout dat."

There was a twinkle in the Texan's eye as he yawned and stretched
prodigiously. "An' I'll tell 'em you're the damnedest liar in the state
of Texas an' North America throw'd in. Come on, now, you throw the
shells on them horses an' we'll be scratchin' gravel. Fifty miles ain't
no hell of a ways--my throat's beginnin' to feel kind of draw'd already."

"W'er' we goin'?" asked the half-breed as they swung into the saddles.

"Bat," said the other, solemnly, "me an' you is goin' fast, an' we're
goin' a long time. You mentioned somethin' about Montana bein'
considerable of a cow country. Well, me an' you is a-goin' North--as far
North as cattle is--an' we're right now on our way!"