Sheriff Owen, who had kept a mild eye on Pete, had noted this transaction. After Blue Smoke had been returned to the stables, he took occasion to ask Pete if he were still a partner to the understanding that he was on his honor not to attempt to escape.
"I figured that deal was good till I got here," said Pete bluntly.
"Just so, son. That's where my figuring stopped, likewise. Too much open country. If you once threw a leg over that blue roan, I can see where some of us would do some riding."
"If I'd been thinkin' of leavin' you, it would 'a' been afore we got here, sheriff."
"So it's 'sheriff' now, and not Jim, eh?"
"It sure is—if you're thinkin' o' lockin' me up. You treated me white back there in El Paso—so I'm tellin' you that if you lock me up—and I git a chanct, I'll sure vamose."
Pete's assertion did not seem to displease the sheriff in the least. To the contrary, he smiled affably.
"That's fair enough. And if I don't lock you up, but let you stay over to the hotel, you'll hang around town till this thing is settled, eh?"
"I sure will."
"Will you shake on that?"