Andy White was keenly aware of this, and found occasion that evening in Gary’s temporary absence to caution Pete, who immediately called attention to the fact that they had all hung up their guns except Gary.

“All the better!” asserted Andy.  “That lets you out if he was to start something.”

“Yes.  And it mebby might let me out for good, Andy.  Gary is jest the kind to shoot a man down without givin’ him a chanct.  It ain’t like Gary was scared of me—­but he’s scared of what I know.  I hung up my gun ‘cause I told Jim I wouldn’t set to lookin’ for a scrap with Gary, or any man.  Gary ain’t got sand enough to do the same.  But there won’t be no fuss.  I reckon he dassent draw on me with you two fellas here.  Where ’d he and Cotton go, anyhow?”

“I dunno, Pete.  They moseyed out without sayin’ anything.”

“Looks like Gary wanted to put Cotton wise.”

“Well, if anything starts, I’ll sure keep my eye on that Cotton hombre,” said Andy.

“He’s easy—­and slow,” stated Pete.  “He ain’t got a fightin’ eye.”

“Here they come,” whispered Andy.  “I kin hear ’em talkin’.”

Pete immediately began to whistle.  Andy rose and poked a stick of wood in the stove.  “She’s right cool up here,” he remarked.

“We been kind o’ sizin’ up things,” stated Cotton as Gary and he entered the cabin; an excuse for their absence that was unnecessary and obviously manufactured.

Pete smiled.  “I got ’em sized up.  Never did cotton to workin’ in the dark.”

Gary paused in the act of unsnapping his chaps.

He was about to say something when Andy White interrupted by suggesting that they turn in early and rise early that they might get the work done in daylight and not have to spend another night at the cabin.

Gary dragged an old mattress from the bedroom and, dropping it beneath the window, spread his blanket, rolled up in it, and at Cotton’s query as to sharing half of the mattress told Cotton to “sleep where he dam’ pleased.”

“He’s a friendly cuss, ain’t he?” remarked Pete.

“Who?” asked Gary, half-rising.

“Why, Cotton, there,” replied Pete.  “You didn’t think I was meanin’ you, did you?”

Andy nudged Pete in the dark.  “All right,” said Pete, ignoring Andy’s meaning.  “You git your blanket and we’ll bush outside.”

They spread their blankets under a cedar, some distance from the cabin, and lay gazing at the stars.

Presently Andy turned to Pete.  “Pete,” he said gravely, “you’re walkin’ right into trouble.  Every time Gary starts to lope, yon rein him up mighty short.  He’s fightin’ the bit, and first thing you know—­”

“I’ll git pitched, eh?  Well, mebby you’re right.  I done told Bailey that if I ever did meet Steve Gary I would leave him do the talking but I sure can’t stand for his line o’ talk.  He’s plumb mean.”

“I’ll be mighty glad when we git through with this job,” said Andy.