Weary had been sent, two weeks ago, to the upper Marias country after three saddle horses that had strayed from the home range, and which had been seen near Shelby. It was quite time for him to return, if he expected to catch the Flying U wagon before it pulled out on the beef roundup. That he should be in town and not ride out with Happy Jack was a bit strange. "Why don't yuh throw it out uh yuh, yuh big, long-jawed croaker?" demanded Pink in a voice queerly soft and girlish. It had been a real grievance to him that he had not been permitted to go with Weary, who was his particular chum. "What's the matter? Is Weary sick?" "No," said Happy Jack deliberately, "I guess he ain't what yuh could call _sick_." "Why didn't he come out with you, then?" asked Chip, sharply. Happy did get on one's nerves so. "Well, I ast him t' come--and he took a shot at me for it." There was an instant's dead silence. Then Jack Bates laughed uneasily. "Happy, how many horses did yuh ride out to camp?" Happy Jack had, upon one occasion, looked too long upon the wine--or whisky, to be more explicit. Afterward, he had insisted that he was riding two horses home, instead of one. He was not permitted to forget that defection. The Happy Family had an unpleasant habit of recalling the incident whenever Happy Jack made a statement which they felt disinclined to credit--as this last statement was. Happy Jack whirled on the speaker. "Aw, shut up! I never kidnaped no girl off'n no train, and--" Jack Bates colored and got belligerently to his feet. That hit him in an exceedingly tender place. "Happy, look here," Chip cut in authoritatively. "What's wrong with Weary? If he took a shot at you, it's a cinch he had some reason for it." Weary was even dearer to the heart of Chip than to Pink. "Ah--he never! He's takin' shots permisc'us, lemme tell yuh. And he ain't troublin' about no _reason_ fer what he's doin'. He's plumb oary-eyed--that's what. He's on a limb that beats any I ever seen. He's drunk--drunk as a boiled owl, and he don't give a damn. He's lost his hat, and he's swapped cayuses with somebody--a measly old bench--and he's shootin' up the town t' beat hell!" The Happy Family looked at one another dazedly. Weary drunk? _Weary_? It was unbelieveable. Such a thing had never been heard of before in the history of the Happy Family. Even Chip, who had known Weary before either had known the Flying U, could not remember anything of the sort. The Happy Family were often hilarious; they had even, on certain occasions, shot up the town; but they had done it as a family and they had done it sober. It was an unwritten law among the Flying U boys, that all riotous conduct should occur when they were together and when the Family could, as a unit, assume the consequences--if consequences there were to be. "I guess Happy must a rode the whole blame saddle-bunch home, this time," Cal remarked, with stinging sarcasm.