"All right. I—I'm needin' the money right now," stammered Pete—"or I'd give 'em to you."
"How you making it?" queried Roth.
"Fine! But I was thinkin' o' makin' a change. Sheep is all right—but I'm sick o' the smell of 'em. Montoya is all right, too. It ain't that."
Roth gazed at the boy, wondering if he would say anything about the six-gun. He liked Pete and yet he felt a little disappointed that Pete should have taken him altogether for granted.
"Montoya was in—yesterday," said Roth.
"Uh-huh? Said he was comin' over here. He's back in camp. Me and Andy was lookin' for a Chola that wants to sell a hoss."
"Mighty poor lot of cayuses round here, Pete. What you want with a horse?"
"'T ain't the hoss. It's the saddle an' bridle I'm after. If I were to offer to buy a saddle an' bridle I'd git stuck jest as much for 'em as I would if I was to buy the whole works. Might jest as well have the hoss. I could trade him for a pair of chaps, mebby."
"Goin' to quit the sheep business?"
"Mebby—if I can git a job ridin'."