him to his feet and all but crooked his trigger-finger before he had actually realized what had startled him.  But one thing was certain—­Andy would never know just how close he had come to being killed; Andy, who had joked lightly about his own ride into the desert with an angry posse trailing him, as he wore Pete’s black Stetson, “that he might give them a good run for their money,” he had laughingly said.

“You’re jest the same ornery, yella-headed, blue-eyed singin’-bird you always was,” declared Pete as they slithered along down the trail.

Andy turned in the saddle and grinned at Pete.  “Now that you’ve give the blessing parson, will you please and go plumb to hell?”

Pete felt a lot better.

A loose rock slipped from the edge of the trail, and went bounding down the steep hillside, crashing through a thicket of aspens and landing with a dull clunk amid a pile of rock that slid a little, and grumbled sullenly.  Blue Smoke had also slipped as his footing gave way unexpectedly.  Pete felt still better.  This was something like it!

CHAPTER XLV

HOME FOLKS

Noon found them within sight of the ranch-house.  In an hour they were unsaddling at the corral, having ridden in the back way, at Andy’s suggestion, that they might surprise the folks.  But it did not take them long to discover that there were no folks to surprise.  The bunk-house was open, but the house across from it was locked, and Andy knew immediately that the Baileys had driven to town, because the pup was gone, and he always followed the buckboard.

Pete was not displeased, for he wanted to shave and “slick up a bit” after his long journey.  “They’ll see my hoss and know that I’m back,” said Andy, as he filled the kettle on the box-stove in the bunk-house.  “But we can put Blue Smoke in a stall and keep him out of sight till you walk in right from nowhere.  I can see Ma Bailey and Jim and the boys!  ’Course Ma’s like to be back in time to get supper, so mebby you’ll have to hide out in the barn till you hear the bell.”

“I ain’t awful strong on that conquerin’ hero stuff, Andy.  I jest as soon set right here—­”

“And spoil the whole darn show!  Look here, Pete,—­you leave it to me and if we don’t surprise Ma Bailey clean out of her—­specs, why, I’ll quit and go to herdin’ sheep.”

“A11 right.  I’m willin’.  Only you might see if you kin git in the back way and lift a piece of pie, or somethin’.”  Which Andy managed to do while Pete shaved himself and put on a clean shirt.

They sat in the bunk-house doorway chatting about the various happenings during Pete’s absence until they saw the buckboard top the distant edge of the mesa.  Pete immediately secluded himself in the barn, while Andy hazed Blue Smoke into a box stall and hid Pete’s saddle.

Ma Bailey, alighting from the buckboard, heard Andy’s brief explanation of his absence with indifference most unusual in her, and glanced sharply at him when he mentioned having shot a wild turkey.