Next day he was so stiff and sore that he could scarcely walk, but his eye was brighter. However, he begged off from their proposed ride the following afternoon. Pete said nothing; but when the next riding afternoon arrived, a week later, Forbes was surprised to see Pete, dressed in his range clothes. Standing near the curb were two horses, saddled and bridled. "Git on your jeans and those ole boots of mine. I fetched along a extra pair of spurs."
"But, Annersley—"
"I can't ride 'em both."
"It's nice of you—but really, I can't afford it."
"Look here, Doc, what you can't afford is to set in that room a-readin' all day. And the horse don't cost you a cent. I had a talk with the old-timer that runs the livery, and when he seen I was onto my job, he was plumb tickled to death for me to exercise the horses. One of 'em needs a little educatin'."
"That's all right. But how about my horse?"
"Why, I brought him along to keep the other horse company. I can't handle 'em both. Ain't you goin' to help me out?"
"Well, if you put it that way, I will this time."
"Now you're talkin' sense."
Several weeks later they were again riding out on the desert and enjoying that refreshing and restful companionship which is best expressed in silence, when Pete, who had been gazing into the distance, pulled up his restive horse and sat watching a moving something that suddenly disappeared. Forbes glanced at Pete, who turned and nodded as if acknowledging the other's unspoken question. They rode on.