"There's more, but I've done forgot most of it," apologized the singer. Johnny laughed with delight. "Why, that's Lefty Allen's old song. Here's th' second verse:" _I've rid a pitchin' broncho till th' sky was underneath,_ _I've tackled every desert in th' land;_ _I've sampled Four-X whisky till I couldn't hardly see,_ _An' dallied with th' quicksands of th' Grande._ "That's shore O-Bar-O. Lefty made it up hisself, an' that boy could sing it. It all comes back to me now--he called it 'Th' Insult.' Why--here, _you_!" he chuckled. "I said I was mad an' in a hurry. I ain't mad no more, but I _am_ in a hurry. See you tonight, mebby. So-long." Riding on again he soon reached the Question-Mark bunkhouse and dismounted as a puncher turned the corner of the house. They grinned at each other, these good, old-time friends. "You son-of-a-gun!" chuckled Johnny, holding out his hand. "You son-of-a-gun!" echoed Waffles, gripping it, and so they stood, silent, exchanging grins. It had been a long time since they last had seen each other. McCullough loomed up in the doorway and grinned at them both. "Hear yo're married," said Waffles. "Shore!" bragged Johnny. "It ain't spoiled you, _yet_. How's Hoppy an' Red?" "Fine, now they're out of jail." Waffles threw his head back and laughed heartily. "I near laughed till I busted when Quayle told us who they was. Hoppy an' Red in _jail_! It was _funny_!" "Hello, Nelson," said McCullough. "What are you doin' down here?" "Had to leave town; too many corners, an' too much cover. I'm lookin' for a job, if it don't cut me out of th' rewards." "She's yourn." "Wait a minute," said Johnny. "I can't take it. I got to be free to do what I want; but I'll hang out here for awhile." "You've got th' job instanter," said the appreciative trail-boss smiling broadly. "It's steady work of bossin' yoreself. I've heard of yore work, up Gunsight way. Feed yet? Then come on." "Shore will. Where's Quayle?" "Rode back, roundabout; him not courtin' bein' seen; but I reckon everybody in town knows he's been here. He swears by you." * * * * *