Inspired by the idea, Roarer assumed his devotional attitude and clawed wildly. Something gave way, and he emerged precipitately.
"I got her," he triumphed, "but something busted—What was it?" he supplemented with an anxious glance over his shoulder.
The others surrounded him.
"Suspender," reported Limber. "Button's busted off'n your trousers."
"Much damage?" he inquired of the investigating committee, which continued looking him over.
"Nothin' but what can be fixed up with a pin," was Bronco's decision. "Any one got a pin?"
They shook their heads. It was a pinless crowd, but a brilliant idea struck Holy, who delved into the pockets of his discarded leather chaps and produced a horse-shoe nail. Drawing a piece of the trouser cloth through the button-hole of the suspended flap, he thrust the nail in dexterously.
"Thar you are," he pronounced cheerfully.
"Say, Holy, you're a wonder!" flattered Roarer obsequiously.
Holy grinned at him and demanded, "What do you want me to do for you?"