"Good heavens!" ejaculated Tex. He thought a moment. "Huh! Prophet! Mecca! Mohammed!" he muttered. Suddenly seeing a great light, he flipped his sombrero into the air, caught and balanced it on his nose when it came down, sidestepped, and as it fell, punched it across the stable. Turning gravely he shook hands with the surprised stableman, slapped him on the shoulder and burst out laughing. "Where’n blazes did he dig ’em up? He don’t know what one of them names means; _There was the Veil through which I might not see_. Come, John: _Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine must drown the memory of that insolence!_ Wait till I get my hat: _Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit._" Carney gave them a nonchalant welcome and displayed little interest in them until Graves told him about the horse. "Th’ roan, eh?" exclaimed the saloonkeeper. "I’ll shore find a place for it, but I’m afraid it’ll miss th’ beatin’s. There’s a closet built across one corner of th’ stable: I’ll give you a key to it, Mr. Jones. It’ll be handy for yore trappin’s." After a few rounds Tex went out, mounted bareback and, leaving Graves in front of the stable, rode to the hotel to get his saddle. Soon thereafter he dismounted at the station and smiled at the agent. "’Richard is himself again,’" he chuckled, affectionately patting Omar. "An’ I still have my kingdom." "He looks fit for a king to ride," replied Jerry. "He’d honor a king. How’s th’ hen ranch comin’ along? Got th’ fence up yet?" "Yes; Murphy just finished it. That looks like Williams’ roan." "It was. I won it at poker. I could feel in my fingers that I was goin’ to be lucky. Hello!" he exclaimed, looking at a box across the track. On it were painted irregular, concentric circles. "Looks like it might be a target." Jerry laughed. "It is; and so far, unhit." Tex glanced at the other’s low-hung belt and gun. "Have you shot at it yet?" Jerry nodded. "From where?" "Right here." "Great mavericks!" said Tex. "Here: let’s see how fast you can get that gun out, an’ empty it at that box. I got a reason for it." At the succession of reports the toolshed door flew open and a huge Irishman, rifle in hand, popped into sight. Seeing Tex he grunted and slowly went back again. Tex looked from the box to the marksman, shook his head, silently unbuckled the belt from its owner’s waist, took the empty gun from the agent’s hand, and tossed the outfit on a near-by box. "Don’t you carry it, Jerry," he said. "Load it up an’ leave it home. Popular feelin’, even in this town, frowns at th’ shootin’ of an unarmed man. It’s somethin’ that’s hard to explain away." "But then I’ll be defenseless!" expostulated Jerry, "It’s some protection." "You were defenseless before I took it from you," said Tex. "But it is some protection," Jerry reiterated.