A few evenings later the men, loafing outside the bunk-house, amused themselves by originating titles for the chief actors in the recent range-drama.  Pete, without question, was “The Lion Tamer,” Bailey was “Big-Chief-not-Afraid-of-a-Buck.”  Ma Bailey was “Queen of the Pies”—­not analogous to the drama but flattering—­and Haskins, after some argument and much suggestion, was entitled “Claw-Hammer.”  Such titles as “Deer-Foot,” “Rail-Hopper,” “Back-Flip Bill,” “Wind-Splitter,” and the like were discarded in favor of “Claw-Hammer”—­for the unfortunate Bill had stepped on a rusty nail in his recent exodus from the lion’s den, and was at the time suffering from a swollen and inflamed foot—­really a serious injury, although scoffed at by the good-natured Bill himself despite Mrs. Bailey’s solicitude and solution of peroxide.

Winter, with its thin shifts of snow, its intermittent sunshiny days, its biting winds that bored through chaps and heavy gloves, was finally borne away on the reiterant, warm breezes of spring.  Mrs. Bailey was the proud and happy possessor of a lion-skin rug—­Pete’s Christmas present to her—­proud of the pelt itself and happy because Young Pete had foregone the bounty that he might make the present, which was significant of his real affection.  Coats and heavy overshoes were discarded.  Birds sang among sprouting aspen twigs, and lean, mangy-looking coyotes lay on the distant hillsides soaking in the warmth.  Gaunt cattle lowed in the hollows and spring calves staggered about, gazing at this new world with round, staring eyes.

Houck, the T-Bar-T foreman, had discussed with Bailey the advisability of defining a line between the two big ranches.  They came to an agreement and both stated that they would send men to roughly survey the line, fix upon landmarks, and make them known to the riders of both outfits.  Bailey, who had to ride from Concho to the railroad to meet a Kansas City commission man, sent word back to the Concho to have two men ride over to Annersley’s old homestead the following day.  Mrs. Bailey immediately commissioned Young Pete and Andy to ride over to the homestead, thinking that Pete was a particularly good choice as he knew the country thereabouts.  She cautioned the boys to behave themselves—­she always did when Andy and Pete set out together—­and giving them a comfortable package of lunch, she turned to her household work.

“I’m takin’ Blue Smoke,” stated Pete as Andy packed his saddle to the corral.

“You’re takin’ chances then,” observed Andy.

“Oh, I got him so he knows which way is north,” asserted Pete.  “I been gittin’ acquainted with that cayuse, Chico.”

“Yes.  I seen you settin’ on the ground watchin’ him buck your saddle off a couple of times,” snorted Andy.

“Well, seein’ as this here pasear is straight riding I reckon I’ll crawl him and turn him loose.  He needs exercisin’.”

“Well, I don’t,” asserted Andy. “’Course, some folks has always got to be showin’ off.  If Bailey was here you wouldn’t be ridin’ that hoss.”