When Lafe got home that night, Jim was sitting up for him, thumping his heels against the edge of the bed. He was so much concerned for his friend that he did not feel like sleep. After a tentative puff or two on a cigarette, and some coughing, he got it out. Did Lafe know that Grace Hawes--Johnson silenced him curtly, and they lay down, back to back. But Buffalo was undaunted by a sleepless night. His was a staunch soul, and early next morning he repaired to the Cowboys' Rest to interview Miss Hawes. "You say he's been married before?" Grace cried. "Lafe Johnson is married now, you say?" "Shore," said Jim, with a friendly smile. "That's a way ol' Lafe has. He don't mean no harm, Miss Grace. He's just naturally playful. It's sort of a habit he's got, getting married--sort of a hobby like." "Hobby? I'll hobby him--hobby him good. How often has he had the habit? How many wives has he got now, Mr. Buf'lo?" "Oh, not a great many. I don't rightly know, but--" "And these--these wives and fam'lies? Where are they?" "There ain't many fam'lies," Jim corrected, beginning to regret his interference. "Not a great many fam'lies, Miss Hawes. Just a few, scattered here and there." "Get out!" said Miss Hawes. "Get out, and don't you never show your face round here again. Married? Huh, you can't go to fool me! You quit trying to crowd into my affairs or it'll be the worse for you, Mr. Buf'lo." "Certainly, ma'am. Certainly, Miss Grace," Jim said, seizing his hat. "Excuse me, ma'am, will you, please?" He decided to say nothing of the visit to Lafe. When Johnson reached the Cowboys' Rest that evening, Moffatt was already ensconced in the wicker rocking-chair. Lafe was momentarily cast down. A conference had revealed that he and Buffalo had no more money. They must go in search of work without delay. "Oh, Mr. Lafe," was Grace's greeting, "guess what! I've been asking Steve about shooting, and he done promised to keep a can in the air for five shots to-morrow." "That's good shooting," said Johnson, accepting a chair. "Ain't it wonderful? I do love a man who can shoot. When I marry, I want a man who knows how to keep other men scared. I used to tell my sister back in Abilene--she ain't like me. No, indeed. She's a society lady, my sister is. I done said to her, 'Mary Lou, when--'" "Yes, it takes nerve to be a gunfighter," Lafe interrupted. "Oh, it's grand, I think." Miss Hawes clasped her hands and rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir; yes, ma'am, it sure takes nerve. A gunfighter always gives the other feller an even break. And he don't care how even it is, does he, Moffatt?" "I don't take you," Moffatt said doubtfully.