“That’s right.  Now I thought you was listenin’ to me.”

“I was.  But ain’t he hungry?”

Shoop chuckled.  “Let him in, son.”

Lorry opened the door.  Bondsman stalked in, sniffed at Lorry’s boots, and padded to the kitchen.

“What do you feed him?” said Lorry, hesitating.

“He won’t take nothin’ from you,” said Shoop, heaving himself up.  “I’ve had him since he was a pup.  You set down and I’ll ’tend to him.

“And I says to him,” said Shoop, as he returned to his chair,—­“I says, ‘Bondsman, that there cat was just passin’ the buck to us to see if we was game.’  And he ain’t got over it yet.”

“I’ve roped ’em,” said Lorry—­“roped ’em out of a tree.”

“Uh-uh.  Where’d you learn to rope?”

“At the Starr Ranch.  I worked there once.”

“Git tired of it?”

“Nope.  I had a argument with the foreman.”

“Uh-uh.  I reckon it ain’t hard to pick a fuss with High Chin.”

“I wasn’t lookin’ for a fuss.  It was his funeral.”

“So I heard; all but the procession.”

“And that’s why I came up to see you.  Mr. Torrance told me to hunt you up.”

“He did, eh?  Well, now, John sure gets queer idees.  I don’t need a man round here.”

“I was after a job in the Service.”

“And he sends you to me.  Why, I ain’t ever worked a day for the Service.”

“I guess he wanted you to look me over,” said Lorry, smiling.

“Well, they’s lots of time, ’less you’re in a hurry.”

“If I can’t get in the Service, I’ll look up a job punchin’,” said Lorry.  “I got to get somethin’.”

Bondsman stalked in, licking his chops.  He nuzzled Shoop’s hand.  Lorry snapped his fingers.  Bondsman strode to him.  Lorry patted his knee.  The big dog crouched and sprang to Lorry’s knees, where he sat, studying him quizzically, his head to one side, his keen eyes blinking in the lamplight.  Lorry laughed and patted the dog.

“He’s trying to get my number,” said Lorry.

“He’s got it,” said Shoop.  “You could ‘a’ snapped your fingers off afore he’d ‘a’ come nigh you, ‘less he wanted to.  And while we’re talkin’ about it, you can tell John Torrance I said to give you a try.”

Lorry sat up quickly.  “Guess you didn’t know that Buck Hardy is lookin’ for me,” said Lorry.  “Mr. Torrance says I got to square myself with Buck afore I get the job.”

“He did, eh?  Well, speakin’ of Buck, how would you like to hear a little talk from a real music-box?”

“Fine!”

Shoop waddled to the piano.  “I ain’t no reg’lar music sharp,” he explained unnecessarily, “but I got a couple of pieces broke to go polite.  This here piano is cold-mouthed, and you got to rein her just right or she’ll buffalo you.  This here piece is ‘Annie Laurie.’”

As Bud struck the first note, Bondsman leaped from Lorry’s knees and took his place beside the piano.  The early dew had just begun to fall when Bondsman joined in.  Lorry grinned.  The dog and his master were absolutely serious in their efforts.  As the tune progressed, Lorry’s grin faded, and he sat gazing intently at the huge back of his host.