Incidentally Flandrau's doubt had been converted into a lively suspicion. Presently he took a gun, and strolled off to shoot birds. What he really wanted was to be alone so that he could think the matter over. Coming home in the dusk, he saw Stone and young Cullison with their heads together down by the corral. Curious to see how long this earnest talk would last, Curly sat down on a rock, and watched them, himself unobserved. They appeared to be rehearsing some kind of a scene, of which Soapy was stage director. The man on the rock smiled grimly. "They're having a quarrel, looks like.... Now the kid's telling Soapy to go to Guinea, and Soapy's pawing around mad as a bull moose. It's all a play. They don't mean it. But why? I reckon this dress rehearsal ain't for the calves in the corral." Curly's mind was so full of guesses that his poker was not up to par that night. About daybreak he began to see his way into the maze. His first gleam of light was when a row started between Soapy and Cullison. Before anyone could say a word to stop them they were going through with that identical corral quarrel. Flandrau knew now they had been preparing it for his benefit. Cranston chipped in against Sam, and to keep up appearances Curly backed the boy. The quarrel grew furious. At last Sam drove his fist down on the table and said he was through with the outfit and was going back to Saguache. "_Yo tambien_," agreed Curly. "Not that I've got anything against the horse ranch. That ain't it. But I'm sure pining for to bust the bank at Bronson's. 'Round and round the little ball goes, Where it will land nobody knows.' I've got forty plunks burning my jeans. I've got to separate myself from it or make my roll a thousand." The end of it was that both Sam and Curly went down to the corral and saddled their ponies. To the last the conspirators played up to their parts. "Damned good riddance," Stone called after them as they rode away. "When I find out I'm doing business with four-flushers, I quit them cold," Sam called back angrily. Curly was amused. He wanted to tell his friend that they had pulled off their little play very well. But he did not. Still according to program, Sam sulked for the first few miles of their journey. But before they reached the Bar 99 he grew sunny again. "I'm going to have a talk with Laura while I'm so near," he explained. "Yes, that will be fine. From the way the old man talked when I was there, I expect he'll kill the fatted yearling for you." "I don't figure on including the old man in my call. What's the use of having a friend along if you don't use him? You drift in ... just happen along, you know. I'll stay in the scrub pines up here. If the old man is absent scenery, you wave your bandanna real industrious. If he is at home, give Laura the tip and she'll know where to find me." The owner of the ranch, as it happened, was cutting trail over by Agua Caliente.