“Well,” says Mary Jane, grinning, “yuh might give me that gun-oil, so’s I can limber up this old six-gun.”
“Wel-l-l-come to our cow-camp!” explodes Windy. “That sounded just like old Mike, y’betcha. Mary Jane, if yuh wants anything out of the ordinary in cuss words I can loan yuh some that the old man used to patronize.”
“They’ll come to her,” grins Hashknife. “Wait till she gets mad.”
A little later here comes a tall gray-haired feller in a buckboard. He drives up to the bunk-house and speaks to Windy.
“Howdy, judge,” says Windy. “Meet Mister Hartley and Mister Stevens. Gents, this is Judge Waugh.”
We shakes hands all around and then the judge says:
“Windy, I came up here to have a talk with you. I suppose you heard about Pete Kelso getting shot.”
“When did this happen?” asks Windy.
“About noon or a little later—over by Cactus Cañon. Jimmy and Al Orr found him. Shot with a .45-70. Likely live, I guess.”
“——!” exploded Windy. “Why, we came that way—huh!”