“You mean you won’t keep the sorrel?” asked Harry.
“No-o-o,” drawled Cultus. “One horse is enough for me; and Amigo is kinda jealous.”
“But can’t we do anythin’ for yuh, Collins?” asked Jim Kelton.
Cultus thought it over for several moments, and then looked at Jane, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes, there’s somethin’ yuh can do, Mr. Kelton. Make it the biggest weddin’ they ever had in Painted Valley, and send me an invite. I won’t be here, but I’d just like to know it happened. And”—he grinned at Jane—“when yore grandchildren set on yore lap and ask yuh to tell ’em some more lies about how yuh climbed that devil’s chimney in Padre Canyon, you send for me, and I’ll come down through Red Horse Pass in a wheelchair, and prove it to them.”
He turned abruptly and walked out, heading toward the hitchrack, where the tall sorrel waited for him.
“There goes another man,” said Blaze Nolan softly.