As he was about to hand it to the Texan he stopped
suddenly and examined the cinch. Then without a word carried it back,
unsaddled his own horse, and taking the cinch from his saddle exchanged
it for the other.
"Just as easy to switch cinches as it is drinks, ain't it, Bat?"
grinned Tex.
"Ba Goss! Heem look lak' Circle J boun' for be wan man short," replied
the half-breed, and the girl, upon whom not a word nor a move had been
lost, noticed that Purdy's jaw tightened as the Texan laughed at the
apparently irrelevant remark.
The outlaw shuddered as the heavy saddle was thrown upon his back and
the cinch ring deftly caught with a loop of rope and made fast.
Out on the flat number four, on the pinto outlaw, had hit the dirt,
number five had ridden through on a dead one, and number six had quit
his in mid-air.
"Next horse--number seven!" called the Mayor. The cowboy who had the
broncho in tow headed out on the flat prepared to throw off his dallies
and two others, including Purdy, rode forward quirt in hand, to haze
the hate-blinded outlaw from crashing into the wagons. With his hand
gripping the cheek-strap, Tex turned and looked straight into Purdy's
eyes.
"Go crawl under a wagon an' chaw a bone," he said in a low even voice,
"I'll whistle when I want _you_." For an instant the men's glances
locked, while the onlookers held their breath.
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