Buck nodded. Vaguely disturbed by some unnamed, intermittent fever, he had been quick to read the symptoms of restlessness in another, especially in one who had been as close to him as Tex had been. He went over to an old desk, slowly opened a drawer and took out a roll of bills and a memorandum. "Here," he said, holding both out. "Far as I know it’s th’ same as when you gave it to me. Ought to be seven hundred, even. Count it, to make shore." While Tex took it and shoved it into his pocket uncounted and crumpled the memorandum, Buck also was reaching into a pocket, and counted off several bills from the roll it gave up. These he gravely handed to his companion, smiling to hide the ache of losing another friend. "I shore haven’t earned it all," mused Tex, looking down at the wages in his hand. "I reckon I’m doin’ this ranch a favor by leavin’, for there ain’t no real job up here no more for any man as expensive as I am. You got th’ whole country eatin’ out of yore hand, an’ th’ first thing you know th’ cows will catch th’ habit an’ brand an’ count ’emselves to save you th’ trouble of doin’ it." "You’ll be doin’ us a bigger favor when you come back, one of these days," grinned Buck. "You shore did yore share in trainin’ it to eat out of my hand. For a while it looked like it would eat th’ hand--an’ it would ’a’, too. Aimin’ to ride down?" Tex’s eyes twinkled. "How’d you come to figger I’m goin’ down?" Buck smiled. "No, reckon not," said Tex. "Ridin’ as far’s th’ railroad. I’ll leave my cayuse with Smith. When one of th’ boys goes down that way he can get it. I’ll pay Smith for a month’s care." Reading the unspoken question in his friend’s eyes, he carelessly answered it. "Don’t know where I’m goin’. Reckon I’ll get down to th’ SV before I stop. That’d be natural, with Red an’ Hoppy stayin’ with Johnny." "They might need you, too," suggested Buck, hopefully. If he couldn’t be with his distant friends himself, he at least wished as many of them to be together as was possible. "I’m copperin’ that," grunted Tex. His eyes shone momentarily. "Yo’re forgettin’ that our best three are together. Lord help any misguided fools that prod ’em sharp. Well, I’m dead shore to drift back ag’in some day; but as you say, those south ranges shore do pull a feller’s heart." He looked shrewdly at his friend and his face beamed from a sudden thought. "We’re a pair of fools," he laughed. "You ain’t got th’ wander itch! You don’t want to go jack-rabbitin’ all over th’ country, like me! All you want is that southwest country, with yore wife an yore friends on th’ same ranch; down in th’ cactus country, where th’ winters ain’t what they are up here. I’m afraid my brain’s atrophied, not havin’ been used since Dave Owens rolled down from his ambush with Hoppy’s slugs in him for ballast."