As he loped along the Juniper trail he made a confidante of Pepper. "Dearly Beloved," he muttered, "we are goin' to be th' center of a whole lot of eyes before long. People will pay attention when they sees us. We are going to be right popular--an' _un_popular. If you knowed all th' trouble I'm brewin' for us, you'd reckon I wasn't no friend at all. But I know yo're with me to a finish, an' not worryin' about whose finish it's goin' to be. I've got to do some thinkin'. You listen. "Wolf was sent up to find out who's been ticklin' th' Bar H with a prong, an' he didn't have no luck. Knowin' he was losin' patience, I knowed what a man like him would do when he came to th' end of it. He'd pick a fight an' start shootin'. Now you know I ain't scared of Wolf, but you don't know that I wasn't ready to start no open war just yet. I'll admit I hope I don't have to start none, but I wouldn't bet two bits on _that_. So what did I do? I sent him away, Pepper, but he'll come back. Uh-huh, he'll come back if he's got th' nerve--an' it'll take some. An' if he does you an' me'll have to step around right lively. If he figgers right he'll come back a-shootin', for he'll be all riled up. I couldn't have him trailin' me wherever I went, could I? Th' man wasn't reasonable--he didn't allow I had any rights. "Now, then: Wolf won't be back before tomorrow mornin'. I'm bettin' he won't be able to sit a saddle before mornin', an' that brings him here tomorrow afternoon. Th' Bar H won't hunt for him, thanks to what you helped me do last night. If they find his cayuse without his saddle they'll think he come down an' got a fresh hoss. An' all we want is to see that little Peggy girl, an' go over to th' Double X. Then we'll turn th' Bar H upside down, an' let Wolf square up for his buggy ride if he wants. An' I'll give odds that he'll want to." When he reached the rendezvous he was early and he grinned as he realized his unusual impatience. "Pepper, things are shore happenin' to me. I'm what you might call sober-drunk. Just settin' here quiet, lookin' at that little valley is plumb thrillin', little hoss--an' _would_ you cock an eye at that gent down there! An' cussed if there ain't a cow in them sands! I reckon, mebby, it's goin' to be _real_ thrillin' before long." He jammed his sombrero tight on his head and waited, tense and eager for the overt act he felt sure would come, and send him down the hill like the swoop of a hawk.