"That's where yo're figgerin' wrong. I can allus tell. Havin' told me yore name, I'll tell you mine. I'm Pete Carson, known hereabouts an' elsewhere as Long Pete. Some calls me Long-winded Pete; but it's all th' same to me. Pint that a little mite more to th' sky; thank you, sir. I was punchin' for th' Circle S, but th' Circle S punched me; then it fired me. I've got to eat, so I got to work. Th' Long T ain't hirin'; an' I'd starve before I'd work for Logan. I ain't no slave, not me. "I'm settin' there in th' sun whittlin' a stick an' arguin' with myself. I was gettin' th' worst of it when I hears yore noble cayuse. Not bein' curious I riz up instanter an' looked plumb into yore gun--just a little mite higher; ah, much obliged." "What's all this to me?" demanded Ackerman impatiently. "That's what I'm aimin' to find out I saw you comin'--up a little more; thank you. Then I think I got a new chance. I want a job an' I want it bad. Hold it in yore left hand: yore right hand is tired, an' saggin'. Any chance for a close-mouthed man up yore way? One that does as he's told, asks no questions, an' ain't particular what kind of a job it is? Better let me hold that; I can see yo're gettin' tired. Thank you, sir. I'm desperate, an' I'm hungry. What you say? Speak right out--I'm a grand listener." Ackerman grunted. "Huh! I ain't got nothin' to say about hirin' th' men where I work. As a matter of fact we ain't got work enough for another man. An' I reckon you don't understand nothin' about farmin', even in a small way; but if yo're hungry, why, I can fix that right soon. Got a cayuse?" Pete nodded emphatically. "I allus manage to keep a cayuse, no matter how bad things busts; a cayuse, my saddle, an' a gun. Why?" "Climb onto it an' come along with me. I'm aimin' to make camp as soon as I run across water. That's a purty good animal you got." "Yes; looks good," grunted Long Pete; "but it ain't. It's a deceivin' critter. I'm yore scout. There's a crick half a mile west of here. I'm that famished I'm faint. Just a little more an' I'd 'a' cooked me a square meal off of one of th' yearlin's that wander on th' edge of th' range. That was what I was thinkin' over when I heard you." "You shouldn't do a thing like that!" exclaimed Ackerman severely. "Besides, you shouldn't talk about it. An' if you _do_ it you'll get shot or lynched."