“If you got hurt in the fall,” said Dan quietly, overlooking the latter part of the speech, “why don’t you climb onto Satan.  He’ll take you back.”

Morgan laughed.

“Say, kid, I’d take a chance with Satan, but there ain’t any hospital for fools handy.”

“Go ahead.  He won’t stir a foot.  Steady, Satan!”

“All right,” said Morgan, “every step is sure like pullin’ teeth!”

He ventured closer to the black stallion, but was stopped short.  Black Bart was suddenly changed to a green-eyed devil, his hair bristling around his shoulders, his teeth bared, and a snarl that came from the heart of a killer.  Satan also greeted his proposed rider with ears laid flat back on his neck and a quivering anger.

“If I’m goin’ to ride Satan,” declared Morgan, “I got to shoot the dog first and then blindfold the hoss.”

“No you don’t,” said Dan.  “No one else has ever had a seat on Satan, but I got an idea he’ll make an exception for a sort of temporary cripple.  Steady, boy.  Here you, Bart, come over here an’ keep your face shut!”

The dog, after a glance at his master, moved reluctantly away, keeping his eyes upon Morgan.  Satan backed away with a snort.  He stopped at the command of Dan, but when Morgan laid a hand on the bridle and spoke to him he trembled with fear and anger.  The saloon-keeper turned away.

“Thankin’ you jest the same, Dan,” he said, “I think I c’n walk back.  I’d as soon ride a tame tornado as that hoss.”

He limped on down the road with Dan riding beside him.  Black Bart slunk at his heels, sniffing.

“Dan, I’m goin’ to ask you a favour—­an’ a big one; will you do it for me?”

“Sure,” said Whistling Dan.  “Anything I can.”

“There’s a skunk down there with a bad eye an’ a gun that jumps out of its leather like it had a mind of its own.  He picked me for fifty bucks by nailing a dollar I tossed up at twenty yards.  Then he gets a hundred because I couldn’t ride this hoss of his.  Which he’s made a plumb fool of me, Dan.  Now I was tellin’ him about you—­maybe I was sort of exaggeratin’—­an’ I said you could have your back turned when the coins was tossed an’ then pick off four dollars before they hit the ground.  I made it a bit high, Dan?”

His eyes were wistful.

“Nick four round boys before they hit the dust?” said Dan.  “Maybe I could, I don’t know.  I can’t try it, anyway, Morgan, because I told Dad Cumberland I’d never pull a gun while there was a crowd aroun’.”

Morgan sighed; he hesitated, and then:  “But you promised you’d do me a favour, Dan?”

The rider started.

“I forgot about that—­I didn’t think——­”

“It’s only to do a shootin’ trick,” said Morgan eagerly.  “It ain’t pullin’ a gun on any one.  Why, lad, if you’ll tell me you got a ghost of a chance, I’ll bet every cent in my cash drawer on you agin that skunk!  You’ve give me your word, Dan.”