CHAPTER XI
BAD BUSINESS
"My mistake, Del Pinzo! My mistake!" exclaimed Bud, smiling as good-naturedly as possible under the circumstances. The young rancher leaped from Sock (so called because he had one white foot that looked exactly as if he had on a sock) and approached the Mexican, who had begun to loosen the lariat from around his body.
"I sure didn't know you were there, Del Pinzo," went on Bud, soothingly. "I was just showing these tenderfeet how to throw a rope, pronto,—when up you sprout, and get the benefit of it. Hope I didn't ruffle you any?" asked Bud.
"Hum! Too much pronto!" muttered the man, but his face lost some of its scowl as he realized it had been an accident.
"What's pronto?" whispered Dick to Nort, noting that his brother had half drawn his gun, though there was no need of this action.
"Means quick," translated Bud, who overheard the question. "I was a little too quick with my rope. But I didn't know anybody was behind that stump."
"Nor I," said Dick, while Bud began gathering in the length of his lariat.
"I—sleep!" said the Mexican; with some of the gutturalness of the Indian. "No got a right to sleep?" he asked, half sarcastically, as he recovered his gun from where it had slipped from its holster.
"Sure you got a right to sleep," admitted Bud cheerfully. "This isn't Diamond X land, nor yet Double Z," he added, with a quick glance around. "Not that you wouldn't have a right to take a snooze if it was Diamond X," Bud went on. "Well, I reckon we'll mosey along," he said slowly, making a sign to Dick and Nort to mount their ponies. "Got to get back to the ranch."