Had By-and-by been really sober he would have taken the conceit out of that pony in chunks, and as it was he experienced no great difficulty in holding his seat; but in his addled state of mind he grasped the end of the cinch strap in such a way that when the pony jumped forward in its last desperate effort the buckle slipped and the cinch became unfastened; and By-and-by, still seated in the saddle, flew head foremost into the horse trough, where he spilled much water. As this happened Cowan turned the corner, and when he saw the wasted water (which he had to carry, bucketful at a time, from the wells a good quarter of a mile away) his anger blazed forth, and yelling, he ran for the drenched Sioux, who was just crawling out of his bath. When the unfortunate saw the irate man bearing down on him he sputtered in rage and fear, and, turning, he ran down the street, with Cowan thundering flatfootedly behind on a fat man's gallop, to the hysterical cheers of the delighted outfit, who saw in it nothing but a good joke. When Cowan returned from his hopeless task, blowing and wheezing, he heard sundry remarks, sotto voce, which were not calculated to increase his opinion of his physical condition. “Seems to me,” remarked the irrepressible Hopalong, “that one of those cayuses has got th' heaves.” “It shore sounds like it,” acquiesced Johnny, red in the face from holding in his laughter, “an' say, somebody interferes.” “All knock-kneed animals do, yu heathen,” supplied Red. “Hey, yu, let up on that and have a drink on th' house,” invited Cowan. “If I gits that durn war whoop I'll make yu think there's been a cyclone. I'll see how long that bum hangs around this here burg, I will.” Red's eyes narrowed and his temper got the upper hand. “He ain't no bum when yu gives him rotgut at a quarter of a dollar a glass, is he? Any time that 'bum' gits razzled out for nothin' more'n this, why, I goes too; an' I ain't sayin' nothin' about goin' peaceable--like, neither.” “I knowed somethin' like this 'ud happen,” dolefully sang out Billy Williams, strong on the side of his pessimism. “For th' Lord's sake, have you broke out?” asked Red, disgustedly. “I'm goin' to hit the trail--but just keep this afore yore mind: if By-and-by gits in any accidents or ain't in sight when I comes to town again, this here climate'll be a heep sight hotter'n it is now. No hard feelings, sabe? It's just a casual bit of advice. Come on, fellows, let's amble--I'm hungry.”