The Senator chuckled. "Don't say a word to Mrs. Brown about it. I'll have Cheyenne in, after dinner, and sweat it out of him. You see, Cheyenne won't eat with us. He always eats with the boys. No use asking him to eat in here. And, say, Bartley, we've got a little surprise for you. One of my boys caught up your horse, old Dobe. Dobe was dragging a rope. Looks like he broke away from some one. I had him turned into the corral. Dobe was raised on this range." "Broke loose and came back!" exclaimed Bartley. "That's good news, Senator. I like that horse." "But Cheyenne is out of luck," said the Senator. "He thought more of those horses, Filaree and Joshua, than he did of anything on earth. I'll send one of the boys back to the water-hole to-morrow, for your saddles and outfit. But now you're here, how do you like the country?" "Almost as much as I like some of the people living in it," stated Bartley. "Not including Panhandle Sears, eh?" "I'm pretty well fed up on walking," and Bartley smiled. "Sears is a worthless hombre," stated the Senator. "He's one of a gang that steal stock, and generally live by their wits and never seem to get caught. But he made a big mistake when he lifted Cheyenne's horses. Cheyenne already has a grievance against Sears. Some day Cheyenne will open up--and that will be the last of Mr. Sears." "I had an idea there was something like that in the wind," said Bartley. "Cheyenne hasn't said much about Sears, but I was present at that crap game." The Senator chuckled. "I heard about it. Heard you offered to take on Sears if he would put his gun on the table." Bartley flushed. "I must have been excited." The Senator leaned forward in his big, easy-chair. "Cheyenne wants me to let him take a couple of horses to trail Panhandle. And, judging from what Cheyenne said, he thinks you are going along with him. There's lots of country right round here to see, without taking any unnecessary risks." "I understand," said Bartley. "And this is your headquarters, as long as you want to stay," continued the Senator. "Thank you. It's a big temptation to stay, Senator." "How?" "Well, it was rather understood, without anything being said, that I would help Cheyenne find his horses and mine. Dobe came back; but that hardly excuses me from going with Cheyenne." "But your horse is here; and you seem to be in pretty fair health, right now." "I appreciate the hint, Senator." "But you don't agree with me a whole lot." "Well, not quite. Chance rather chucked us together, Cheyenne and me, and I think I'll travel with him for a while. I like to hear him sing." "He likes to hear him sing!" scoffed the Senator, frowning. He sat back in his chair, blew smoke-rings, puffed out his cheeks, and presently rose. "Bartley, I see that you're set on chousin' around the country with that warbling waddie--just to hear him sing, as you say. I say you're a dam' fool.