For that, the real shock came in the utter unexpectedness of the thing—­and from the fact that a man, even though prone to indulge in such riotous conduct, is supposed to forswear such indulgence when he has other and more important things to do.  Weary had been sent afar on a matter of business; he had ridden Glory, a horse belonging to the Flying U. His arrival without the strays he had been sent after; without even the horse he had ridden away—­that was the real disaster.  He had broken a trust; he had, apparently, appropriated a horse that did not belong to him, which was worse.  But the Happy Family were loyal, to a man.  They did not condemn him; they were only waiting for him to sleep himself into a condition to explain the mystery.

“Somebody’s doped him,” said Pink with decision, after three hours of shying around the subject.  “You’ll see; somebody’s doped him and likely took Glory away when they’d got him batty enough not to know the difference.  Yuh mind the queer look in his eyes?  And he acts queer.  So help me Josephine!  I’d sure like to get next to the man that traded horses with him.”

The Happy Family breathed deeply; they were all, apparently, thinking the same thing.

“By golly, that’s what,” spoke Slim, with decision.  “He does act like a man that had been doped.”

“Whisky straight wouldn’t make that much difference in a man,” averred Jack Bates.  “Yuh can’t get Weary on the fight, hardly, when he’s sober; and look at the way he was in town—­hot to slaughter that Chinaman that wasn’t doing a thing to him, and saying how he hated Chinks.  Weary don’t; he always says, when Patsy don’t make enough pie to go round, that if he was running the outfit he’d have a Chink to cook.”

“Aw, look at the way he acted t’ Rusty—­and he thinks a lot uh Rusty, too,” put in Happy Jack, who felt the importance of discovery and was in an unusually complacent mood.  “And he was going t’ hang Pink up by the heels and—­”

Pink turned round and looked at him fixedly, and Happy Jack became suddenly interested in his cigarette.

“Say, he’ll sure be sore when he comes to himself, though,” observed Cal.  “I don’t know how he’s going to square himself with his school-ma’am.  Joe Meeker was into Rusty’s place while the big setting comes off; I would uh given him a gentle hint about keeping his face closed, only Weary wouldn’t let me off my horse.  Joe’ll sure give a high-colored picture uh the performance.”

“Well, if he does, he’ll regret it a lot,” prophesied Pink.  “And anyway, something sure got wrong with Weary; do yuh suppose he’d give up Glory deliberately?  Not on your life!  Glory comes next to the Schoolma’am in his affections.”

“Wonder where he got that dirt-colored cayuse, anyhow,” mused Cal.

“I was studying out the brand, a while ago,” Pink answered.  “It’s blotched pretty bad, but I made it out.  It’s the Rocking R—­they range down along Milk River, next to the reservation.  I’ve never had anything to do with the outfit, but I’d gamble on the brand, all right.”