Carney laughed. "I’m agreein’ with you, but he didn’t name th’ roan. That hoss was named by Windy Barrett, when he was blind drunk. Windy was a peculiar cuss; allus spoutin’ poetry an’ such nonsense. Read books while he was line ridin’. Well, he woke up one mornin’ after a spree in Williams’ stable. As he turned his head to see where he was, th’ roan, then a colt, poked its nose over th’ stall an’ nuzzled him. One of th’ boys was just goin’ in th’ stable an’ saw th’ whole thing. Windy pushes th’ hoss away an’ says, sadlike: ’Yo’re dead wrong, Oh My Cayenne; it don’t banish th’ sorrers with its whirlwind sword.’ Th’ boys thought it was such a good joke they let th’ name stick." Tex looked dubious. "Mebby they thought so, but I’m not admittin’ that I do; an’ it’s no joke for any cayuse to have a name like that. There goes Bud Haines, ridin’ out of town: he ain’t earnin’ his pay. Well, reckon I’ll drift up an’ see Williams. I allus like to be sociable. So-long." *CHAPTER VII* *WEIGHTS AND MEASURES* The proprietor of the general store glanced out of the window as the roan stopped before his door, and he frankly frowned at Tex’s entry. "Ain’t no letters come for no Joneses," he said brusquely. "Hope springs eternal," replied Tex. He sauntered up to the counter and was about to turn and lean against it when his roving glance passed along a line of wide-necked bottles. They looked strangely familiar and he glanced at them again. A label caught his eye. "Chloral Hydrate" he read silently. He looked at Williams and chuckled. "I don’t claim to be no Injun, but just th’ same I got a lot of patience when it comes to waitin’. Looks like I’m goin’ to need it, far as that letter is concerned." He looked along the walls of the store. "You shore carry a big stock for a town like this, Mr. Williams," he complimented, his eyes again viewing the line of bottles with a sweeping glance. "Strychnine," he read to himself, nodding with understanding. "Shore, for wolves an’ coyotes. Quinine, Aloes, Capsicum, Laudanum--quite a collection for a general store. Takes me back a good many years." Aloud he said. "I was admirin’ that there pipe, an’ I’ve got to have it; but that ain’t what I’m lookin’ so hard for." Again he searched shelves, up and down, left and right, and shook his head. "Don’t see ’em," he complained. His mind flashed back to one word, and his medical training prompted him. "Chloral hydrate--safe in the right hands and very efficient. Ought to be tasteless in the vile whiskey they sell out here. You never can tell, an’ I might need every aid." He shook his head again, and again spoke aloud. "Too bad, cuss it." "If you wasn’t so cussed secret about it I might be able to help you find what yo’re lookin’ for," growled Williams. "Bein’ th’ proprietor I know a couple of things that are in this store. Yore article might be among ’em."