Well to the south of the two friends in Hastings, Jim Ackerman loped steadily ahead, debating several things; and as he neared the Circle S range a man suddenly arose from behind a rock. There was nothing threatening about this gentleman except, perhaps, his sudden and unexpected appearance; but Ackerman's gun had him covered as soon as his head showed.
"Turn it off me," said the man behind the rock, a note of pained injury in his voice. "My intentions are honorable; an' plumb peaceful. Yo're most scandalous suspicious."
Ackerman smiled grimly. "Mebby I am; but habit is strong. An' one of my worst habits is suspicion. What's th' idea of this jack-in-th'-box proceedin' of yourn? You've shore got funny ways; an' plumb dangerous ones."
"Reckon mebby it does look that way," said the man behind the rock. "I neglects caution. I should 'a' covered you first an' then popped up. That shows how plumb innercent an' peaceful I am. Yore name's Jim Ackerman, ain't it?"
"You can't allus tell," replied Ackerman.
"That's where yo're figgerin' wrong. I can allus tell. Havin' told me yore name, I'll tell you mine. I'm Pete Carson, known hereabouts an' elsewhere as Long Pete. Some calls me Long-winded Pete; but it's all th' same to me. Pint that a little mite more to th' sky; thank you, sir. I was punchin' for th' Circle S, but th' Circle S punched me; then it fired me. I've got to eat, so I got to work. Th' Long T ain't hirin'; an' I'd starve before I'd work for Logan. I ain't no slave, not me.
"I'm settin' there in th' sun whittlin' a stick an' arguin' with myself. I was gettin' th' worst of it when I hears yore noble cayuse. Not bein' curious I riz up instanter an' looked plumb into yore gun—just a little mite higher; ah, much obliged."
"What's all this to me?" demanded Ackerman impatiently.
"That's what I'm aimin' to find out I saw you comin'—up a little more; thank you. Then I think I got a new chance. I want a job an' I want it bad. Hold it in yore left hand: yore right hand is tired, an' saggin'. Any chance for a close-mouthed man up yore way? One that does as he's told, asks no questions, an' ain't particular what kind of a job it is? Better let me hold that; I can see yo're gettin' tired. Thank you, sir. I'm desperate, an' I'm hungry. What you say? Speak right out—I'm a grand listener."
Ackerman grunted. "Huh! I ain't got nothin' to say about hirin' th' men where I work. As a matter of fact we ain't got work enough for another man. An' I reckon you don't understand nothin' about farmin', even in a small way; but if yo're hungry, why, I can fix that right soon. Got a cayuse?"