"Is that one word--or several?" grinned Grimshaw. "An' as long as we started in passin' poseys back an' forth, I've heard tell of both of you birds. You're Tex's side kick an' your regular name's Bat, ain't it? An' this here's the pilgrim that nicked Purdy over in Wolf River an' then cussed out the lynchin' party to their face, thereby displayin' a set of red guts that was entirely onlooked for in a pilgrim. So, bein' as we're all friends together, let's hit it out an' see how Tex is makin' it." He turned to Endicott, "Onless you'd ruther hit fer Cinnabar Joe's?" Endicott shook his head: "No! If my wife is safe, my place is right here beside Tex. This is my fight as much as it is his--more so, for it's on her account he's after Purdy." "That's what I call a man!" exclaimed Grimshaw extending a hand which Endicott shook heartily. "Here's a gun--but let me slip you the word to lay off Purdy. Nick away at the others, there's three more of 'em--or was--but Tex he wants Purdy. Of course if anything should happen to Tex--that lets us in. We'll pick up Bill Harlow on the way. Come on, let's ride!" And as they rode, Endicott smiled grimly to himself. A horse-thief, a half-breed, and he, Winthrop Adams Endicott, "all friends together." And in this friendship he suddenly realized he felt nothing but pride. The feel of his galloping horse was good. He raised his eyes to the purpled peaks of the distant Bear Paws, and as he filled his lungs to their depths with the keen, clean air his knees tightened upon his saddle, his fingers involuntarily closed about the butt of the gun that protruded from the waistband of his corduroy trousers. "All friends together," he muttered, and again he smiled--grimly. CHAPTER XXV JANET PAYS A CALL