"Shore I'll break bread. I'm as hongry ez a shipwrecked sailor. When does ther tocsin sound?"
"The dinner bell will ring in about half an hour. Get down and turn your cayuse out to graze, and join us about the fire."
"Which means ter open ther mouth o' my war bag, an' give up my pedigree."
"Something like that," said Ted, with a laugh.
The ungainly cow-puncher slid out of his saddle like an eel, and slipped the saddle and bridle off his pony, and, giving it a slap on the haunch, sent it out to eat.
Throwing his horse furniture on the ground near the fire, he squatted in the ring of boys about, and proceeded to roll a cigarette in a leisurely way.
"Say, hombre," he said, looking at Ted. "You've got a mighty tidy outfit yere."
Ted nodded, and continued to watch the stranger's face.
"Which outfit mought it be?" asked the cow-puncher, picking a live coal out of the fire and placing the end of his cigarette against it.
"Moon Valley, Black Hills," said Ted.