Bartley noticed the toil-worn hands, and the lines that hard work and worry had graven in her face. Her "best clothes" rather accentuated these details. But back of it all he sensed the resolute spirit of the West, resourceful, progressive, large-visioned. "Meet Mr. Bartley," said Cheyenne unexpectedly. Which was just what the two women had been itching to do. Bartley rose and shook hands with them. "A couple of lady friends of mine," said Cheyenne when they had gone. Cheyenne made no mention of the previous evening's game, or its climax. Yet Bartley had gathered from Wishful that Panhandle Sears and Cheyenne had an unsettled quarrel between them. In the hotel office Cheyenne purchased cigars and proffered Bartley a half-dozen. Bartley took one. Cheyenne seemed disappointed. When cigars were going round, it seemed strange not to take full advantage of the circumstance. As they stepped out to the veranda, the horses recognized Cheyenne and nickered gently. "Going south?" queried Bartley. "That's me. I got the silver changed to bills and some of the bills changed to grub. I reckon I'll head south. Kind of wish you was headed that way." Bartley bit the end from his cigar and lighted it, as he gazed out across the morning mesa. A Navajo buck loped past and jerked his little paint horse to a stop at the drug-store. Cheyenne, pulling up a cinch, smiled at Bartley. "That Injun was in a hurry till he got here. And he'll be in a hurry, leavin'. But you notice how easy he takes it right now. Injuns has got that dignity idea down fine." "Did he come in for medicine, perhaps?" "Mebby. But most like he's after chewin'-gum for his squaw, and cigarettes for himself, with a bottle of red pop on the side. Injuns always buy red pop." "Cigarettes and chewing-gum?" "Sure thing! Didn't you ever see a squaw chew gum and smoke a tailor-made cigarette at the same time? You didn't, eh? Well, then, you got somethin' comin'." "Romance!" laughed Bartley. "Ever sleep in a Injun hogan?" queried Cheyenne as he busied himself adjusting the pack. "No. This is my first trip West." "I was forgettin'. Well, I ain't what you'd call a dude, but, honest, if I was prospectin' round lookin' for Injun romance I'd use a pair of field-glasses. Injuns is all right if you're far enough up wind from 'em." "When do you start?" asked Bartley. "Oh, 'most any time. And that's when I'll get there." "Well, give my regards to Senator Brown and his wife, if you happen to see them." "Sure thing! I'm on my way. You know-- "I was top-hand once--but the trail for mine: Git along, cayuse, git along! But now I'm ridin' the old chuck line, Feedin' good and a-feelin' fine: Oh, some folks eat and some folks dine, Git along, cayuse, git along!"