Little knots of
cowpunchers stood about drinking at the bar or discussing the coming
celebration.
"They've got a bunch of bad ones down in the corral," someone said.
"That ol' roman nose, an' the wall-eyed pinto, besides a lot of snorty
lookin' young broncs. I tell yeh if Tex draws either one of them ol'
outlaws it hain't no cinch he'll grab off this ride. The _hombre_ that
throws his kak on one of them is a-goin' to do a little sky-ballin'
'fore he hits the dirt, you bet. But jest the same I'm here to bet ten
to eight on him before the drawin'."
Purdy who had joined the next group turned at the words.
"I'll jest take that," he snapped. "Because Tex has drug down the last
two buckin' contests hain't no sign he c'n go south with 'em all." At
the end of the bar Tex grinned as he saw Purdy produce a roll of bills.
"An', by gosh!" the Bear Paw Pool man was saying, "when they'd all got
their money down an' the bull dog was a-clawin' the floor to git at the
badger, an' the pilgrims was crowded around with their eyes a-bungin'
out of their heads, ol' Two Dot Wilson, he shoves the barrel over an'
they wasn't a doggone thing in under it but a----"
"What yeh goin' to have, youse?" Purdy had caught sight of Tex who
stood between the Bear Paw Pool man and Bat Lajune. "I'm bettin' agin'
yeh winnin' the buckin' contest, but I'll buy yeh a drink.
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