But her conscious
enjoyment of its comfort was short-lived for the sounds of men and
horses, and the low soughing of the wind in the pine-tops blended into
one, and she slept. Endicott, too, fell asleep almost as soon as he
touched the blankets which the half-breed had spread for him a short
distance back from the fire, notwithstanding the scant padding of pine
needles that interposed between him and mother earth.
Beside the fire the half-breed helped Tex wash the dishes, the while he
regarded the cowpuncher shrewdly as if to fathom what was passing in
his mind.
"Back in Wolf Rivaire, dey t'ink de pilgrim git hang. W'at for dey
mak' de posse?" he asked at length. The Texan finished washing the tin
plates, dried his hands, and rolled a cigarette, which he lighted
deliberately with a brand from the fire.
"Bat," he said with a glance toward the sleeping Endicott, "me an' you
has be'n right good friends for quite a spell. You recollect them four
bits, back in Las Vegas--" The half-breed interrupted him with a grin
and reaching into his shirt front withdrew a silver half-dollar which
depended from his neck by a rawhide thong.
"_Oui_, A'm don' git mooch chance to ferget dat four bit."
"Well, then, you got to help me through with this here, like I helped
you through when you stole Fatty's horse.
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