in his listener. "You remember that time the boys' rode off
and left me laying out here on the prairie with my leg
broke?" he went on dismally. "I'd rather have that happen to
me a dozen times than see 'em set back and give me the laugh
now, just when--Oh, hell!" He dropped the finished cinch and
walked moodily to the door. "Weary, if them dry-farmers come
flockin' in on us while this bunch stands around callin' me a
liar, I--" He did not attempt to finish the sentence; but
Weary, staring curiously at Andy's profile, saw a quivering
of the muscles around his lips and felt a responsive thrill
of sympathy and belief that rose above his long training in
caution.

Spite of past experience he believed, at that moment, every
word which Andy Green had uttered upon the subject of the
proposed immigration. He was about to tell Andy so, when Chip
walked unexpectedly out of Silver's stall and glanced from
Weary to Andy standing still in the doorway. Weary looked at
him enquiringly; for Chip must have heard every word they
said, and if Chip believed it--

"Have you got that plat with you, Andy?" Chip asked tersely
and with never a doubt in his tone.

Andy swung toward him like a prisoner who has just heard a
jury return a verdict of not guilty to the judge. "I've got
it, yes," he answered simply, with only his voice betraying
the emotions he felt--and his eye? "Want it?"

"I'll take a look at it, if it's handy," said Chip.