"Right," grunted Tex, swiftly dropping the cards before them. Williams picked up his hand, but gave no sign of his disappointment. There was not a face card in it. He made his selection, discarded, and called for three cards. Tex had discarded two. Williams wanted no face cards on the draw, since he held a pair of nines. One more nine would give him a fair hand, and another would just about win for him. He drew a black queen and a pair of red jacks. "Well," he said, "ready to show?" Tex grunted again, glanced at Bud Haines, and lay down three queens, a nine, and a jack. "What you got?" he anxiously asked. "An empty box stall, I reckon," growled his adversary, spreading his hand. He pushed back without another word to Tex, looked at his stableman and spoke gruffly. "John, give that roan to Mr. Jones when he calls for it. He’s to keep it somewhere else. I’m turnin’ in. Good night, all." *CHAPTER VI* *FRIENDLY INTEREST* Freshly shaven, his boots well rubbed, and his clothes as free from dust as possible, Tex sauntered down the street after breakfast the next morning and stepped into the stable. John Graves met him, nodded, and led the way to the roan’s stall. "You got a fine hoss, Mr. Jones," he said, opening the gate. "Yes, I have; an’ you’ve taken good care of him. His coat couldn’t be better. I like a man that looks after a hoss." "I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ about nobody, but I’m glad to see him change owners," said Graves, glancing around. "Rub yore hand on his flank. I got th’ coat so it hides ’em real well." Tex stroked the white nose, rubbed the neck and shoulders, and slowly passed his hand over the flank. The scars were easily found. He wheeled and looked at the stableman. "Who in h--l did that, an’ why?" he demanded. "That ain’t for me to say, an’ sayin’ wouldn’t do no good; but I’m plumb glad he’s in other hands. Just because a hoss fights back when he’s bein’ abused ain’t no reason to cut him to pieces. An’ a big man can kick hard when he’s mad." Tex held a lump of sugar to the sensitive, velvety lips before replying. "Yes, he can," he admitted. "Anybody in town that’ll treat this hoss right, an’ give him a stall?" "Better see Jim Carney in his saloon. He’s a good, reliable man an’ likes hosses. He’ll take good care of Oh My." Tex stared at him. "Of what?" "Oh My," replied the stableman. "Th’ rest of th’ name is Cayenne." "’Suffer little children!’" exclaimed Tex. "Who named him that, an why?" "I reckon Williams did, because he’s peppery an’ red."