The groaning continued.  Mrs. Bailey rose and seized the lamp.  Pete got up stiffly and followed her out.  One of the men was down on all fours, jumping about in ludicrous imitation of a bucking horse; and another was astride him, beating him not too gently with a quirt.  As Ma Bailey came in sight the other cowboys swung their hats and shouted encouragement to the rider.  Bailey was not visible.

“Stay with ’im!” cried one.  “Rake ‘im!  He’s gittin’ played out!  Look out!  He’s goin’ to sunfish!  Bust ’im wide open!”

It was a huge parody of the afternoon performance, staged for Ma Bailey’s special benefit.  Suddenly the cowboy who represented Blue Smoke made an astounding buck and his rider bit the dust.

Ma Bailey held the lamp aloft and gazed sternly at the two sweating, puffing cowboys.  “Where’s Bailey?” she queried sharply.

One of the men stepped forward and doffing his hat assumed an attitude of profound gravity.  “Blue there, he done pitched your husband, mam, and broke his leg.  Your husband done loped off on three laigs, to git the doctor to fix it.”

“Let me catch sight of him and I’ll fix it!” she snorted.  “Jim, if you’re hidin’ in that bunk-house you come out here—­and behave yourself.  Lord knows you are old enough to know better.”

“That’s right, mam.  Jim is sure old enough to know better ’n to behave hisself.  You feed us so plumb good, mam, that we jest can’t set still nohow.  I reckon it was the pie that done it.  Reckon them dried apples kind of turned to cider.”

Mrs. Bailey swung around with all the dignity of a liner leaving harbor, and headed for the house.

“Is she gone?” came in a hoarse whisper.

“You come near this house to-night and you’ll find out!” Mrs. Bailey advised from the doorway.

“It’s the hay for yours, Jim,” comforted a cowboy.

Pete hesitated as to which course were better.  Finally he decided to “throw in” with the men.

Bailey lighted the hanging lamp in the bunk-house, and the boys shuffled in, grinning sheepishly.  “You’re sure a he-widder to-night,” said Bill Haskins sympathetically.

Bailey grinned.  His good wife was used to such pranks.  In fact the altogether unexpected and amusing carryings on of the boys did much toward lightening the monotony when times were dull, as they were just then.  Had the boys ceased to cut up for any length of time, Ma Bailey would have thought them ill and would have doctored them accordingly.

Pete became interested in watching Bill Haskins endeavor to shave himself with cold water by the light of the hanging lamp.

Presently Pete’s attention was diverted to the cowboy whom Mrs. Bailey had sent outdoors to smoke.  He had fished up from somewhere a piece of cardboard and a blue pencil.  He was diligently lettering a sign which he eventually showed to his companions with no little pride.  It read: