"He 'll find out, if he makes many more talks like that—an' that ain't no dream, neither!" snapped the sheepman. He wheeled, and frowned at the man behind the bar. "You see what he gets, if he opens his cow mouth in here tonight. Th' boys hate this kind real fervent; an' when they finds out that he 's a side pardner of that coyote Waffles, they won't need much excuse. You wait—that's all!"
"Oh, what's th' use of gettin' all riled up about it?" demanded the bartender easily. "He did n't know you was a sheepman, when he made his first break. An' lemme tell you somethin' you want to remember—them old-time cowmen can use a short gun somethin' slick. They 've got 'em trained. Bet he can work th' double roll without shootin' hisself full of lead." The speaker grinned exasperatingly.
"Yes!" exploded the sheepman, who had tried to roll two guns at once, and had spent ten days in bed as a result of it.
The bartender laughed softly as he recalled the incident. "Have you tried it since?" he inquired.
"Go to th' devil!" grinned the other, heading for the door. "But he 'll get in trouble, if he spouts about hatin' sheep, when th' boys come in. You better get him drunk an' lock him in th' attic, before then."
"G'wan! I ain't playin' guardian to nobody," rejoined the bartender. "But remember what I said—them old fellers can use 'em slick an' rapid."
The sheepman went out as Youbet returned; and the latter seated himself, crossing his legs and drawing out his pipe.
The bartender perfunctorily drew a cloth across the bar, and smiled. "So you don't like wire, sheep, or nesters," he remarked.
Mr. Somes looked up, in surprise, forgetting that he held a lighted match between thumb and finger. "Like 'em! Huh, I reckon not. I 'm lookin' for a job because of wire. H—l!" he exclaimed, dropping the match, and rubbing his finger. "That's twice I did that fool thing in a week," he remarked, in apology and self-condemnation, and struck another match.
"I was foreman of my ranch for nigh onto ten years. It was a good ranch, an' I was satisfied till last year, when they made me put up a windmill that did n't mill, but screeched awful. I stood for that because I could get away from it in th' daytime.