“Well ye know thet hoss of Steve’s is a mighty good piece of flesh, as good as you’ll find about here, and old Pedro was tellin’ me that Hero was in the bunch of hosses they tried to take that night. They’d ha’ got him, too, if the gals hadn’t winged their man. Hero had sense enough to go back to his stable ’stid o’ follerin’ the other hosses, and I’ve heerd Cy admire Steve’s hoss more’n once. Ever take notice to thet scar on Cy’s forehead? Looks mightily like a bullet wound. I’ve hed my suspicions that Cy was mixed up in that. The gals wasn’t so hot foot after gettin’ a-holt of the man, and puttin’ this an’ that together----” “And knowin’ old Cy’s reputation.” “Yes, sir, an’ knowin’ that.” “Well it ain’t out of reason,” said Ira. “But I guess for Lou’s sake we better not play detective any further. What you reckon old Jabe Manypenny’s doin’ shinin’ ’round Cy’s? ’Pears to me he’s struck up a mighty suddent friendship there. It made my dander riz up to see the ole blear-eyed sinner settin’ there gapin’ at Lou.” “Lou ain’t got no eyes fur him,” said Bud, “not when some other folks is around, but I reckon ole Jabe wouldn’t mind some of Lou’s messes bein’ stirred up in his kitchen. A man’s stummick is a powerful argymint fer matrimony, I’ve remarked, and old Jabe ain’t above a weakness that ketches a-holt of the younger bucks.” “Humph! I’d like to see Lou stirrin’ up messes in his kitchin,” said Ira disgustedly. “She’s mos’ too good fer any of us, but when it comes to a ole yaller-faced atomy like him I’ll see myself in Jericho before I’ll step out of his way.” “Ye’d better be spruntin’ up then,” said Bud, “’er some other feller’s picter’ll git prominent in her mind an’ when you git back from the front yer prospecks fer eatin’ hearty fer the rest of yer life’ll be slimmer’n what they are now.”