"I ain't askin' you to," said Pete, for he was angry with himself despite the logic of his own argument.
They were near the herd. Andy, who had flushed hotly at Pete's rather ungenerous intimation, spurred his pony round and rode toward a dim figure that nodded in the starlight. Pete whirled his own pony and rode in the opposite direction.
Toward dawn, as they circled, they met again.
"Got the makin's?" queried Pete.
"Right here," said Andy.
As Pete took the little sack of tobacco, their hands touched and gripped. "I seen you standin' side of me," said Pete, "when I was talkin' to Gary."
"You was dreaming" laughed Andy. "That was your shadow."
"Mebby," asserted Pete succinctly. "But I seen out of the corner of my eye that that there shadow had its hand on its gun. And I sure didn't."