Andy glanced at the boyish figure and smiled. "You're wastin' good time with that outfit,"—and he gestured with his thumb toward the sheep.
"Oh, I dunno. José Montoya ain't so slow—with a gun."
Andy White laughed. "Old Crux ain't a bad old scout—but you ain't a Mexican. Anybody can see that!"
"Well, just for fun—suppose I was."
"It would be different," said Andy. "You're white, all right!"
"Meanin' my catchin' your cayuse. Well, anybody'd do that."
"They ain't nothin' to drink but belly-wash in this town," said Andy boyishly. "But you come along down to the store an' I'll buy."
"I'll go you! I see you're ridin' for the Concho."
"Uh-huh, a year."
Pete walked beside this new companion and Pete was thinking hard. "What's your name?" he queried suddenly.