WHOM THE GODS WOULD DESTROY In Gunsight, Dailey rubbed his eyes and cursed the slowness of his breakfast fire, and then padded in his stocking feet to the window and looked out in time to see a black horse go past with a reach and swinging smoothness which brought an appreciative glow into his blinking eyes. The rider sat his saddle with a supple grace and erectness which harmonized with the beautiful leg action of his mount. "He ain't stoppin'," muttered Dailey. "Must 'a' been up to Juniper. I'm sayin' again that if that pack of coyotes lets him start ahead of 'em out of rifle range, there ain't nobody from down here as will ever get close enough to see him again. There's mebby purtier things on earth than a hoss like that, but I'm admittin' I never saw 'em. Cuss that fire--it's smokin' again!" The Doc heard the rhythmic beat pass his shack, muttered drowsily, and turned over to go to sleep again. "Hope it's that Smitty, blast him!" and his snores grew steadily louder. Leaving the Double X quite some time before daylight. Pepper had been sent over the upper trail, which joined the Juniper trail north of town. Now she spurned the Highbank-Gunsight road beneath her flying hoofs with an eagerness and power that belittled the twenty-five miles she already had put behind her. Johnny stroked the satin skin under which the powerful muscles of her sloping shoulders rippled and bunched, and pride surged through him. "I used to think Hoppy's Red Eagle, an' Red's Ginger was th' real thing in hossflesh," he told her, "but they was cows compared to you, Pepper Girl. There ain't nothin' on four laigs has any right to look at you--an' some few on two laigs, too." Swinging around the hill where Green Valley met the trail he patted her again. "There they are, little hoss, ridin' off to comb th' range. See that tied-in pinto Slim's a-ridin'? Show it what runnin' is--I want to talk to him." Slim glanced around, drew rein and had a brief argument with the pinto, which did not like Slim, or his habit of stopping suddenly. "Changed yore mind?" he asked, smiling. "In quite some ways," replied Johnny, forthwith explaining the situation in terse sentences. Slim's mouth opened and forgot to close until his groping mind at last mastered what his ears fed to it, when the mouth opened wider and gave vent to loud, sustaining laughter. Finally subsiding, he demanded the story in detail, but Johnny wheeled around. "I'm warnin' you, not amusin' you, you human rope," retorted Johnny. "If Wolf comes back he'll mebby come a-shootin'--pass th' word along." Slim shoved his hat well back on his head and jammed his gloved hands against his sides. "Th' h--l he will!" he rejoined. "Let him, then. He ain't th' only man out here as packs a gun; I mebby got one, myself. Havin' been kindly warned, now I'm all ready to be amused. Tell it slow. If you can't talk it, sing it. Wait! Here comes Cimarron."