"Ride after nothing! Chase him yourself!"
"On second thoughts, I think I will. It's your turn to play nurse. Go on back and tell Charleton what's happened."
"Don't get fresh, young fellow!" snarled Scott.
Douglas pushed back his hat and the noon sun glimmered through the pines
on his yellow hair. His clear blue eyes studied Scott appraisingly.
Finally, he said, "I guess, on third thoughts, I'll take you back to
Charleton."
Scott laughed. "Now you're drunk!"
Douglas' six-shooter appeared casually between the Moose's twitching ears. "Hold up your little brown hands, Scott, till I reach me your gun. Fine! Now ride ahead of me till we reach Charleton. Some boy I am on the draw, eh, old-timer?"
Scott swore, but rode ahead at a steady trot until they reached the noonday camp. Charleton looked at them in astonishment.
"Call this damn fool off my back, will you, Charleton?" drawled Scott. "He's mad because I called him for letting that wild cayuse of his stampede the herd."
"He's a liar! This is as good a cow-pony as he ever rode and better. Ain't a better horse in Lost Chief than this same Moose. He was after the bull like a hound after a coyote when Scott broke in on us, the dirty—"
"Hold on," interrupted Charleton, "What's your story, Scott?"