Haskins heaved a sigh.  “I—­doggone it—­I—­You got any sticking-plaster, Ma?”

“Yes, William”—­and “William” because Ma Bailey was still a bit indignant, although she appreciated that Bill was more sinned against than sinning.  “Yes, William.  Did you hurt yourself?”

“Stepped on a nail—­er—­this mawnin’.  I—­I wasn’t lookin’ where I stepped.”

“What started you out—­that way?” queried Mrs. Bailey.

“Why, hell, Ma—­I—­wasn’t meanin’ hell, Ma,—­but somebody—­I reckon I know who—­plants a mountain lion right aside my bunk last night when I was sleepin’.  Fust thing this mawnin’ I heard that bell and jumped out o’ my bunk plumb onto the cuss.  Like to bruk my neck.  That there lion was a-lookin’ right up into my face, kind of sleepy-eyed and smilin’ like he was hungry.  I sure didn’t stop to find out.  ’Course, when I got my wind, I knowed it was a joke.  I reckon I ought to kill somebody—­”

“A lion, Bill?  Hev you been drinkin’?”

“Drinkin’!  Why, Ma, I ain’t had a drop sence—­”

“I reckon I better go see what’s in that bunk-house,” said Mrs. Bailey, rising.  “I’ll get you that stickin’-plaster when I come back.”

Mrs. Bailey realized that something unusual had started Bill Haskins on his wild career that morning, but she could not quite believe that there was a mountain lion—­alive or dead—­in the bunk-house until she saw the great beast with her own amazed eyes.  And she could not quite believe that Pete had shot the lion until Bailey himself certified to Pete’s story of the hunt.  Mrs. Bailey, for some feminine reason, felt that she had been cheated.  Bailey had not told her about the lion.  She had been indignant with Haskins for his apparently unseemly conduct, and had been still more indignant with Pete when she appreciated that he was at the bottom of the joke.  But Haskins was innocent and Pete was now somewhat of a hero.  The good woman turned on her husband and rebuked him roundly for allowing such “goings-on.”  Bailey took his dressing-down silently.  He felt that the fun had been worth it.  Pete himself was rather proud and obviously afraid he would show it.  But the atmosphere settled to normal when the men went to work.  Pete was commissioned to skin and cut up the deer.  Later in the day he tackled the lion, skinned it, fleshed out the nose, ears, and eyelids, and salted and rolled the hide.  Roth, the storekeeper at Concho, was somewhat of a taxidermist and Mrs. Bailey had admired the lion-skin.

Pete felt that he could have used the twenty dollars bounty, but he was nothing if not generous.  That afternoon he rode to Concho with the lion-skin tied behind the cantle.  He returned to the ranch late that night.  Next morning he was mysteriously reticent about the disappearance of the hide.  He intended to surprise Ma Bailey with a real Christmas present.  No one guessed his intent.  Pete was good at keeping his own counsel.