“I have no sheep, Henry,” he grins. “Sold out to a feller from St. Marie’s basin, and his drive started today. Yep. I’m a civilian now.” “Got a good price, too,” he grins, when he sees me look foolish-like at Muley. “Glad I sold. Too much sentiment against sheep. Well, boys, I reckon I’ll toddle along. I couldn’t sleep until I comes over and squares myself with Le-mule. Come over and make yourself to home at my place, Le-mule.” “Thanks, Zeb-uleon,” says Muley, “I may do that little thing, Zeb-uleon. How’s Susie, Zeb-uleon?” “Tolable, Le-mule. She’s pining.” We watches him ride away, and then Muley spits, reflectively: “Henry, if that old pelican had called me Le-mule once more I’d have slaughtered him. He must have found that letter I lost.” “You ought to invest your money in a detective agency, and run it yourself. I suppose you’ll go over to see Susie?” “Dang well know I will! Why not?” “Go ahead. Go ahead, Muley, and lose a hundred thousand. What’s a fortune beside her? Your brain ain’t big enough, Muley. When it gets over forty dollars it all looks alike to you. You take my advice and buy sheep.” “Yah-h-h-h!” he blats. “Where?” “What will you give me if I buy ’em for you?” I asks. “You? You got a dead aunt, too, Henry?” “No, but I got brains, and I can buy sheep.” “Go buy ’em then!” he snaps, “I’m from Missouri—me.” * * * * * Muley rides away in the general direction of his heart’s desire, and I gets an inspiration. Over in St. Marie’s basin is plenty of sheep, and I never saw a sheep-man yet what wouldn’t sell out. I like Muley. Dog-gone his irresponsible heart, I like him. His mind ain’t big enough to contemplate a hundred thousand dollars, and I feels glad for him that he’s got a friend like me to make good for him. I may be rewarded for my efforts, and maybe not, but anyway I’ve always wanted to handle big money, and show to the world that Henry Peck could be more than he’s ever showed. I saddles up Glory and puts a pack on Blazer, and leaves a note for Muley, telling him that I’ll be back on the fatal day to save him from ruin. Little Henry is going to be a hero, and hopes to do his heroing on a commission basis. I pilgrims over into a country that cowmen designates as being a fair example of the place where sinners will reside in the hereafter, and eats mutton and talks sheep. Believe me I could talk sheep faster than the men that owned the herds, and I confides in ’em about Muley’s inheritance. Of course I didn’t tell it all, but anyway I got options on enough sheep to cause Yaller Rock County to build an extra wing on the insane asylum, and said options didn’t cost me a cent. “Old Testament” Tilton rides back with me. I’ve spent about fifteen thousand of Muley’s credit with him, and being a minister, he’s a little suspicious of his fellow-men. “I ride with you for the good of my soul,” orates the old boy, when he offers to accompany me.