"Thought so. Where you headed?"
"San Antone Range after more hoss flesh. We'll rope the white stallion this time, and don't you forget it. Eh, kiddie? You're the little coyote what roped my pony and plunked me into the street back in Eureka, ain't you?"
Half jokingly, he swung a vicious blow at Tad with the flat of his hand. Had it landed it would have laid the lad flat.
Tad ducked and came up smiling.
"Wow! The kiddie's a regular little bantam. We'll have to take a fall out of you. Got to give you the desert initiation like they do in the secret societies back in Eureka."
He sought to close with Tad, but the boy eluded him easily.
"That'll do, Bud," warned the guide, stepping between them. "No rough house here. Want some water? We've got a water hole right over there."
"Water? Water? Call the stuff we get out of the ground here water?"
"He—he's had his head in soak already," piped Stacy, noting the perspiration dripping from the cowboy leader's face.
Parry gave the lad a warning look.