“So I watched him, idle, while I smoked.  Pretty soon I seen another fellow ride out into sight where the first one had, and hit her up lively down the trail.  I didn’t do no wondering—­I just sat and watched ’em both for want uh something better to do.”

“Finding them strays wasn’t important, I s’pose?” Happy Jack insinuated.

“It could wait, and did.  So I kept an eye on these gazabos, and pretty soon I saw the hind fellow turn off the trail and go fogging along behind a little rise.  He come into sight again, whipping down both sides like he was heading a wild four-year-old; and that was queer, because the only other live thing in sight was man number one, and I didn’t see no reason why he should be hurting himself to get around to windward like that.

“Maybe it was five minutes I watched ’em:  number one loping along like there wasn’t nothing urgent and he was just merely going somewhere and taking his time for it, and number two quirting and spurring like seconds was diamonds.”

“I wish they was that valuable to you,” hinted Pink.

“They ain’t, so take it easy.  Well, pretty soon they got closer together, and then number two unhooked something on his saddle that caught the light.  There’s where I got my field glasses into play.  I drew a bead with ’em, and seen right off it was a gun.  And I hadn’t no more than got my brain adjusted to grasp his idea, when he puts it back and takes down his rope.  That there,” Andy added naively, “promised more real interest; guns is commonplace.

“I took down the glasses long enough to size up the layout.  Glasses, you know, are mighty deceiving when it comes to relative distances, and a hilltop a mile back looks, through the glass, like just stepping over a ditch.  With the naked eye I could see that they were coming together pretty quick, and they done so.

“Number one looks back, but whether he seen number two I couldn’t say; seemed to me like he just glanced back casual and in the wrong direction.  Be that is it may, number two edged off a little and rode in behind a bunch uh mesquite—­and then I seen that the trail took a turn, right there.  So he pulled up and stood still till the other one had ambled past, and then he whirled out into the trail and swung his loop.

“When I’d got the glasses focused on ’em again, he had number one snared, all right, and had took his turns.  The hoss he was riding—­it was a buckskin—­set back and yanked number one end over end out uh the saddle, and number one’s hoss stampeded off through the brush.  Number two dug in his spurs and went hell-bent off the trail and across country dragging the other fellow—­and him bouncing over the rough spots something horrible.

“I don’t know what got the matter uh me, then; I couldn’t do anything but sit there on my rock and watch through the glasses.  Anyway, while they looked close enough to hit with a rock, they was off a mile or more.  So while I could see it all I couldn’t do nothing to prevent.  I couldn’t even hear number one yell—­supposing he done any hollering, which the chances is he did a plenty.  It was for all the world like one uh these moving pictures.