The men gazed at each other knowingly.
"All right," said Wingle. "Four sacks of flour and a sack of frijoles'll see us through. Got enough other stuff."
"Send some one in for it," ordered Corliss. "I'm going to stay with the outfit, from now on."
The men cheered. That was the kind of a boss to work for! No settin' back and lettin' the men do the fightin'! Some style to Jack Corliss! All of which was subtly expressed in their applause, although unspoken.
"To see that you boys don't get into mischief," continued Corliss, smiling.
"Which means keepin' other folks out of mischief, eh, patron?" said a cow-puncher.
At the word "patron" the men laughed. "They're talkin' of turnin' this outfit into a sheep-camp," remarked another. "Ba-a-ah!" And again they laughed.
Shoop motioned to Sundown who rose from beside the fire. "You can saddle up, Sun."
Sundown caught up his horse and stood waiting while one of the men saddled two pack-animals. "Tony has the keys. He'll pack the stuff for you," said Corliss. "Keep jogging and you ought to be back here by sunup."
The assistant cook mounted and took the lead-rope of the pack-horses. He was not altogether pleased with the prospect of an all-night ride, but he knew that he had been chosen as the one whose services could most easily be dispensed with at the camp. Silently he rode away, the empty kyacks clattering as the pack-horses trotted unwillingly behind him. Too busy with the unaccustomed lead-rope to roll cigarettes, he whistled, and, in turn, recited verse to keep up his spirits.