“Not me, they won’t,” Nick declared forcibly. “I can get along without beans. Hey!” This to one of the mules. “Think you’re in a peerade? Step along there!”
“Don’t get him excited,” Roy cautioned.
“He’s got our food on his back. Good thing those cans don’t leak.”
“That reminds me—I saw one of ’em with what looked like a hole in it,” Nick said suddenly. “I meant to tell you when we were loadin’, only I forgot. It’s right on top.” He urged his pony close to the mules, and, reaching down, felt with his hand along the side of the bag carrying the canned goods. “Uh-huh! She does!”
“Then let’s get it out,” Roy suggested. He dismounted and carefully untied the bag. The faulty can was near the top, and he found it without much trouble. “Tomatoes,” he said, holding it up, after tying the bag again. “Don’t leak much, though.” He climbed into his saddle. “But I guess it isn’t so good, after air gets to it.”
“You’re right there,” Silent said mildly. “Might as well chuck it away. Let’s see it.”
Roy threw him the can. He looked at it, and nodded.
“Well, it’ll make a good target,” he declared. “O. K.?”
“Go on, pepper it,” Teddy said. “Let’s see what you can do.”
The puncher rode on ahead and hitched up his belt. He held the can in his right hand and drew back his arm.