The Texan laughed again. Naked as that of Father Adam, his splendid body was glowing with the bath and the exercise.
“He's ce'tainly the worst chump ever, Alec. Had me in sight all the way down to the creek, but waited till I wasn't moving. Reckon he was nervous. Anyhow, he waited just one-tenth of a second too late. Shot just as I leaned forward for my dive. He gave me a free hair-cut though.”
A swath showed where the bullet had mowed a furrow of hair so close that in one place it had slightly torn the scalp.
“He shot again, didn't he?”
“Yep. I swam along the far bank, so that he couldn't get at me, and crossed into the aspens. He got another chance as I was crossing, but he had to take it on the fly, and missed.”
The cattleman surveyed the hillside cautiously through the front window. “I reckon he's pulled his freight, most likely. But we'll stay cooped for a while, on the chance. You're the luckiest cuss I ever did see. More lives than a cat.”
Howard laid his revolver down within reach, and proceeded to light a fire in the stove, from which rose presently the pleasant odors of aromatic coffee and fried ham and eggs.
“Come and get it, Steve,” said Howard, by way of announcing breakfast. “No, you don't. I'll take the window seat, and at that we'll have the curtain drawn.”
They were just finishing breakfast when Siegfried cantered up.
“You bane ready, Steve?” he called in.