PLANS
Several nights later a horseman rode into Montoya's camp. Pete, getting supper, pretended great indifference until he heard the horseman's voice. It was young Andy White who had come to visit, as he had promised. Pete's heart went warm, and he immediately found an extra tin plate and put more coffee in the pot. He was glad to see White, but he was not going to let White know how glad. He greeted the young cowboy in an offhand way, taking the attitude of being so engrossed with cooking that he could not pay great attention to a stray horseman just then. But later in the evening, after they had eaten, the two youths chatted and smoked while Montoya listened and gazed out across the evening mesa. He understood. Pete was tired of the sheep and would sooner or later take up with the cattle. That was natural enough. He liked Pete; really felt as a father toward him. And the old Mexican, who was skilled in working leather, thought of the hand-carved holster and belt that he had been working on during his spare time—a present that he had intended giving Pete when it was completed. There was still a little work to do on the holster; the flower pattern in the center was not quite finished. To-morrow he would finish it—for he wanted to have it ready. If Pete stayed with him, he would have it—and if Pete left he should have something by which to remember José de la Crux Montoya—something to remember him by, and something useful—for even then Montoya realized that if Young Pete survived the present hazards that challenged youth and an adventurous heart, some day, as a man grown, Pete would thoroughly appreciate the gift. A good holster, built on the right lines and one from which a gun came easily, would be very useful to a man of Pete's inclinations. And when it came to the fit and hang of a holster, Montoya knew his business.
Three weeks later, almost to a day, the sheep were grazing below the town of Concho, near the camp where Pete had first visited Montoya and elected to work for him. On the higher levels several miles to the east was the great cattle outfit of the Concho; the home-buildings, corrals, and stables. Pete had seen some of the Concho boys—chance visitors at the homestead on the Blue—and he had been thinking of these as the sheep drifted toward Concho. After all, he was not equipped to ride, as he had no saddle, bridle, chaps, boots, and not even a first-class rope. Pete had too much pride to acknowledge his lack of riding-gear or the wherewithal to purchase it, even should he tie up with the Concho boys. So when Andy White, again visiting the sheep-camp, told Pete that the Concho foreman had offered no encouragement in regard to an extra hand, Pete nodded as though the matter were of slight consequence, which had the effect of stirring Andy to renewed eloquence anent the subject—as Pete had hoped. The boys discussed ways and means. There was much discussion, but no visible ways and means. Andy's entire wealth was invested in his own gay trappings. Pete possessed something like seventeen dollars. But there is nothing impossible to youth—for when youth realizes the impossible, youth has grown a beard and fears the fire.
Both boys knew that there were many poor Mexicans in the town of Concho who, when under the expansive influence of wine, would part with almost anything they or their neighbors possessed, for a consideration. There were Mexicans who would sell horse, saddle, and bridle for that amount, especially when thirsty—for seventeen dollars meant unlimited vino and a swaggering good time—for a time. Pete knew this only too well. He suggested the idea to Andy, who concurred with enthusiasm.
"Cholas is no good anyhow," blurted Andy. "You ain't robbin' nobody when you buy a Chola outfit. Let's go!"
Montoya, who sat by the fire, coughed.
"'Course, I was meanin' some Cholas," said Andy.
The old herder smiled to himself. The boys amused him. He had been young once—and very poor. And he had ridden range in his youthful days. A mild fatalist, he knew that Pete would not stay long, and Montoya was big enough not to begrudge the muchacho any happiness.
"I'm goin' over to town for a spell," explained Pete.
Montoya nodded.