“‘What about the other one?’

“‘That’s the strangest part,’ says Kink.  ’Pretty soon the other one turns and hits the back-trail like he’d forgot something; then I seen him drop off his horse, too, sudden and all togetherish.  I’m awful careless with this here gun,’ he says.  I hate to see a man laugh from his tonsils forrard, the way he did.  It ain’t humorous.

“‘See here,’ I says, ’I ain’t the kind that finds fault with my pardner, nor saying this to be captious and critical of your play; but don’t you know them Cochises ain’t on the warpath?  Them Injuns has been on their reservation for five years, peaceable, domesticated, and eating from the hand.  This means trouble.”

“’My old man didn’t have no war paint on him one day back at Frisbee,’ whispers Kink, and his voice sounded puckered up and dried, ‘and my mother wasn’t so darned quarrelsome, either.’

“Then I says, ’Well! them bodies has got to be hid, or we’ll have the tribe and the bluebellies from the fort a scouring these hills till a red-bug couldn’t hide.’

“’To hell with ’em,’ says Kink.  ’I’ve done all I’m going to for ’em.  Let the coyotes finish the job.’

“‘No, siree,’ I replies.  ’I don’t blame you for having a prejudice agin savages, but my parents is still robust and husky, and I have an idea that they’d rather see me back on the ranch than glaring through the bars for life.  I’m going over to bury the meat.’

“Off I went, but when I slid down the gulch, I only found one body.  T’other had disappeared.  You can guess how much time I lost getting back to camp.

“‘Kink,’ I says, ’we’re a straddle of the raggedest proposition in this country.  One of your dusters at this moment is jamming his cayuse through the horizon between here and the post.  Pretty soon things is going to bust loose.  ’Bout to-morrer evening we’ll be eating hog-bosom on Uncle Sam.’

“‘Well!  Well!’ says Kink, ’ain’t that a pity.  Next time I’ll conquer my natural shyness and hold a post-mortem with a rock.’

“‘There won’t be no next time, I reckon,’ I says, ’’cause we can’t make it over into Mexico without being caught up.  They’ll nail us sure, seeing as we’re the only white men for twenty-five miles around.’

“‘I’d rather put up a good run than a bad stand, anyhow,’ says he, ’and I allows, furthermore, there’s going to be some hard trails to foller and a tolable disagreeable fight before I pleads ‘not guilty’ to the Colonel.  We’ll both duck over into the Santa—­’

“‘Now, don’t tell me what route you’re going,’ I interrupts,’ ’cause I believe I’ll stay and bluff it through, rather than sneak for it, though neither proposition don’t appeal to me.  I may get raised out before the draw, but the percentage is just as strong agin your game as mine.’

“‘Boy, if I was backing your system,’ says Kink, ’I’d shore copper this move and play her to lose.  You come on with me, and we’ll make it through—­mebbe.’