The round-up boss rode up wearing a grin, in sympathy with Slim's far-reaching guffaws. "What's th' scandal?" he demanded. "Th' cussedest thing you ever heard," laughed Slim, putting his hand on Pepper's bridle. "Nelson is in a hurry to go somewhere, but he's got to give us all of it now that he's whetted my appetite with th' mustard." "I want to get to town an' give Wolf his chance," objected Johnny. "If he's achin' to smoke up he'll come here, won't he?" demanded Slim. "This is th' place to wait for him--right here." "All of which I admits is interestin'," said Cimarron; "but what is it all about?" "Slow now," prompted Slim. He looked around. "Would you listen to that dickey bird up on th' hill?" he asked. The dickey bird was Larry Hallock, whose voice barely reached them. "What do you reckon yo're doin'?" demanded Larry, but in far different language. "Gettin' married?" Further inquiries not receiving the attention he felt they were entitled to, he suspected trouble and made haste to get where he could hear about it. "Hello, Nelson!" he smiled as he joined them. "Lookin' for Two-Spot?" "No; where is he?" demanded Johnny. "I reckon he's downin' liquor in Dave's about now," answered Cimarron. "He's been raisin' th' devil for a drink which he didn't get. Slim, th' fool, owns up that he gave him a dollar last night--an' when we woke up this mornin' our tally man had disappeared. But that ain't tellin' me what Slim was hee-hawin' about, or about Wolf." "Slow, an' deliberate, with everythin' in," chuckled Slim. "Go ahead." Johnny complied, to their hilarious enjoyment, and when the tale was ended, Slim wiped his eyes, pointed out over the range, and said: "You can stay right here an' do somethin' worth while. Not one man in a thousand would come back with that pinned on his shirt tail--an' I'm sayin' Wolf ain't that man. He blames th' Double X--an' there's _only_ twelve of us. He's shore about four bein' in town that night, but I ain't lettin' my modesty stop me from sayin' that, barrin' Cimarron here, he knows that th' four who was there are th' best six-gun men on our ranch; an' that we ain't takin' lessons from nobody when it comes to throwin' lead. He might get one of us, mebby two, an' I'll stretch h--l out of that word probability an' say he might get three; but he won't get us all, an' he knows it. But worse than shootin' it out is what he'll have to face; an' he hates ridicule worse than a rattler hates a king snake. You ain't goin' to set in Dave's, takin' it easy, while we're sweatin' out here--I got a nice little place where you'll fit in an' stop th' gaps that Larry is allus leavin' open." "Gaps!" snorted Larry, indignantly. "Trouble is, you drive 'em so hard they gets stubborn an' go on th' prod. Anybody'd think you never saw a cow before, th' way you acts. You ought to know you can't crowd 'em too hard."