"Thank you. It's a big temptation to stay, Senator."
"How?"
"Well, it was rather understood, without anything being said, that I would help Cheyenne find his horses and mine. Dobe came back; but that hardly excuses me from going with Cheyenne."
"But your horse is here; and you seem to be in pretty fair health, right now."
"I appreciate the hint, Senator."
"But you don't agree with me a whole lot."
"Well, not quite. Chance rather chucked us together, Cheyenne and me, and I think I'll travel with him for a while. I like to hear him sing."
"He likes to hear him sing!" scoffed the Senator, frowning. He sat back in his chair, blew smoke-rings, puffed out his cheeks, and presently rose. "Bartley, I see that you're set on chousin' around the country with that warbling waddie--just to hear him sing, as you say. I say you're a dam' fool.
"But you're the kind of a dam' fool I want to shake hands with. You aren't excited and you don't play to the gallery; so if there's anything you want on this ranch, from a posse to a pack-outfit, it's yours. And if either of you get Sears, I'll sure chip in my share to buy his headstone."
"I wouldn't have it inscribed until we get back," laughed Bartley.