The cowboy's eyes twinkled. "Well, I'm a-goin' to give up cigaroot-smokin'."
"What for?" asked Polly, in surprise.
"Goin' in trainin' to kiss the bride."
"That's nice!" said Polly, beaming.
"Yep, have to take up chawin', like Bud Lane."
Polly was saved from having to answer by Sage-brush galloping up to the wagon.
"Put on your gun!" he shouted to Parenthesis.
Asking no questions, the cow-puncher obeyed his foreman. Trouble was brewing, that he could plainly see. All he had to do was to obey orders, and shoot when any one tried to point a gun at him.
Turning to Polly, he cried: "Where's Mrs. Payson?"
"She came over with me, but stopped to look over the tally for those cows that are goin' with the drive."