A howl went up from Bill and the ranch men that must have scared the cattle out on the range, and they crowded around the unhappy Pedro to assure themselves that it was really he. Bill Jordan could scarcely believe his eyes; he grabbed the pack-horse by the bridle and turned him around several times, and viewed the dejected Pedro from all angles; then he fixed his eyes on the outlaw and the latter quailed under the glance.
"I shore am plumb devastated with six kinds o' delight to meet yo', Mister! An' I don't doubt none thet th' gen'lemen here'll over-look th' onconventionality o' yo'r makin' yo'r début inta sassiety 'thout th' formality of havin' no pants on to speak of. 'Tain't usual—not in no drawin' rooms what I frequents, it ain't—but the' 's a 'Welcome' onto the mat o' this here dump fer yo', pants er no pants!"
"What kind of a galliwumpus er ring-tail giasticutus hev' we here?" said Walker, who had "finished" the broncho, and had come to join the group around the boys and Pedro. "Er is it jes' somethin' the cat brought in?"
"Give it another slant an' yo' won't need no interduction," said Bill, as he pushed Walker nearer to the unfortunate Pedro. Walker started as he looked keenly at the man's face.
"Well, I'll be tee-totally jim-swizzled!" shouted Walker. "Dog-gone ef it ain't our ol' frien' Pedro! Why, Pedro, ain't yo' 'shamed to be gallivantin' 'round all ondressed up, like yo' be? But, never mind, Ol' Top! We all is goin' to pervide yo' with a nice wooden over-coat thet'll cover up them red-flannel laigs o' yo'r'n so 't they don't flag the Overland Limited.
"Ain't it a shame we ain't got no camera—an' this here thing settin' on thet hoss in front of us! I reck'n Pedro's frien's 'd like a pitcher of 'im in this here get-up so's they c'd 'member how he looked jes' 'fore he kicked off!"
"I've got a camera," said Whitey, and running into the ranch-house, he returned with it in a moment.
At the sight of the camera, Walker set up a howl of delight. "Now, Mr. Photografter," he yelled to Whitey, "yo' git th' machine in kerflukus an' I'll pose this flamingo-legged buzzard inta divers an' sundry fascinatin' positions! Yo' jes' p'int that there box at 'im and I'll do the rest!"
"Hol' on!" said Charley Basset. "Thet there looks t'me like a perfec'ly good camera—ain't yo' takin' an awful chanct, Kid, a-p'intin' 'er at hunk o' dog-meat?"
"I guess the camera'll stand it, Charley," said Whitey, "though it has never had a severe test like this."