But, after he had studied it all out and come to a definite conclusion, he did not deliver an ultimatum. The old, good-natured smile simply came back to his rugged face; he rolled a cigarette; and then for the rest of the evening he lay back and enjoyed the show. Only in the morning, when they went out to the corral to get their horses, he carried his war-bag with him and, after throwing the saddle on Copper Bottom, he did the same for their spare mount. "What are you going to pack out, Bud?" inquired Phil, and Bud slapped his canvas-covered bed for an answer. Then, with a heave, he snaked it out of the harness-room where it had been stored and slung it deftly across the pack-saddle. "Why, what's the matter?" said De Lancey, when they were on their way. "Don't you like the hotel?" "Hotel's fine," conceded Bud, "but I reckon I'd better camp out at the mine. Want to keep my eye on that Mexican of ours." "Aw, he's all right," protested Phil. "Sure," said Bud; "I ain't afraid he'll steal something--but he might take a notion to quit the country." "Why, what for?" challenged De Lancey. "He's got his wife and family here." "That's nothing--to a Mexican!" countered Bud. "But I ain't figuring on the excuse he'd give--that won't buy me nothing--what I want to do is to keep him from going. Because if we lose that Mex now, we lose our mine." "And--" "No 'and' to it," said Bud doggedly. "We ain't going to lose him." "But if we did," persisted De Lancey, "why, then you think--" "Your friend would get it," finished Hooker grimly. "Ah, I see," nodded De Lancey, noting the accent on "friend." "You don't approve of my making friends with Aragon." "Oh, that's all right," shrugged the big cowboy. "It won't make no difference now. Go ahead, if you want to." "You mean you can get along without me?" "No," answered Bud. "I don't mean nothing--except what I say. If you want to palaver around with Aragon, go to it. I'll round up Mendez and his family and keep 'em right there at the mine until we get them papers signed--after that I don't care what happens." "Oh, all right," murmured De Lancey in a subdued tone; but if his conscience smote him for the moment it did not lead to the making of any sentimental New Year's resolutions, for he stopped when he came to the store and exchanged salutations with Aragon, who was lounging expectantly before his door. "_Buenos días_, Don Cipriano!" he hailed. "How are you this morning?" "Ah, good morning, Don Felipe," responded Aragon, stepping forth from the shadow of the door. "I am very well, thank you--and you?" "The same!" answered Phil, as if it were a great piece of news. "It is fine weather--no?" "Yes, but a little dry," said Aragon, and so they passed it back and forth in the accepted Spanish manner, while Bud hooked one leg over the horn of his saddle and regarded the _hacienda_ with languid eyes.