Racey, left alone with Rod Rockwell, smiled slightly.  “Bill ain’t got a sense of humour this mornin’,” he observed, softly.  “He must ‘a’ thought I meant it.”

There was no answering smile on Rod’s features as he looked up at Racey Dawson.  “Racey,” said he, laying a hand on the horse’s mane, “have you been to McFluke’s lately?”

“I ain’t,” replied Racey, his smile fading out.

“Then keep on stayin’ away.”

“As bad as that?”

“As bad as that.”

“McFluke been talking?” was Racey’s next question.

“If McFluke was the only one it would be a mighty short hoss to curry.”

“Then there are others?”

“Plenty.”  Rod Rockwell gave a short, hard laugh.

“All of Nebraska’s bunch, huh?”

“All but Nebraska.”

“How long has this been going on—­this talking, I mean?”

“Doc Coffin started it about a week ago.  He told Windy Taylor of the Double Diamond A he was gonna ventilate yore good health some fine day.  He wasn’t drunk, neither.”

“Then he must have serious intentions.”

“Somethin’ like that.  Five of us heard him say it.  Lookit, while I was at McFluke’s alone day before yesterday Doc and Peaches Austin and Honey Hoke was all three bellying the bar, and while I was tucking away my nosepaint they was mumbling to themselves how you was all kinds of a pup and would stand shootin’ any day.”

“Mumblin’ loud enough for you to hear, huh?”

“Naturally, or I wouldn’t ‘a’ heard it.”

“Then they wanted you to hear.  Guess they know yo’re a friend of mine.”

“Guess they do now,” Rod Rockwell said, grimly.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothin’.  I just talked to ’em a li’l bit.”

“And you wasn’t shot?  Didn’t they do anything?”

“Hell, no,” Rod denied, disgustedly.  “Kansas Casey come in just at the wrong time, and throwed down on the four of us and said he’d do all the shooting they was to be done.  And when he went he took me with him.  Said he’d arrest me if I didn’t go peaceable.  Ain’t that just like Kansas?”

“Wearing the star shore means a lot to him.”

“Aw, since he’s been deputy he’s gotten too big for his boots.  And Jake the same way.  The country’s played out, that’s whatsa matter.  Law and order, law and order, till a feller can’t turn round no more without fallin’ into jail.”

“She’s one lucky thing for you, cowboy,” said Racey, seriously, “that Kansas did come.  Three of ’em!  You had yore gall.  Lookit here, next time you let ’em talk.  Names don’t hurt less they’re said to a feller’s face.”

“They knowed you was my friend,” said Rod, simply.  “Anyway, you keep away from McFluke’s.”

“Maybe I will take yore advice.  It has its points of interest, as the feller said when he sat down on the porkumpine.  And speakin’ of porkumpines, have you seen Lanpher?”