"Mebbe-so dat better you don' say nuttin' 'bout A'm gon' 'way from here," he grinned. "Tex she com' 'long pret' queek, now. Mebbe-so he t'ink dat better A'm stay roun' de camp. But _Voila_! How A'm know he ain' gon for git hurt?" "But he did--" Alice paused abruptly with the sentences unfinished, for the sound of galloping hoofs reached her ears and she looked up to see the Texan swing from his horse, strip off the saddle and bridle and turn the animal loose. "Oh," she cried, as the man joined them after spreading his saddle blanket to dry. "Your eyes are swollen almost shut and your lip is bleeding!" "Yes," answered the cowboy with a contortion of the stiff, swollen lip that passed for a smile. "I rounded the bend in a coulee down yonder an' run plumb against a hard projection." "They certainly are hard--I have run against those projections myself," grinned Endicott. "You see, we had what you might call ringside seats, and I noticed that it didn't take you very long to come back with some mighty stiff projecting yourself." "Yes. Him pastin' me between the eyes that way, I took as an onfriendly act, an' one I resented." "That wallop you landed on his chin was a beautiful piece of work." "Yes, quite comely." The cowboy wriggled his fingers painfully. "But these long-horns that's raised on salt-horse an' rawhide, maintains a jaw on 'em that makes iron an' granite seem right mushy. I didn't figure I'd recount the disturbance, aimin' to pass it off casual regardin' the disfigurin' of my profile. But if you-all witnessed the debate, I might as well go ahead an' oncork the details. In the first place, this warrior is a deputy that's out after Win." The Texan glanced sharply at Bat who became suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, but the face of the half-breed was impassive--even sombre as he worked at the blanket. "It's all owin' to politics," continued the cowpuncher, rolling and lighting a cigarette. "Politics, an' the fact that the cow country is in its dotage. Choteau County is growin' effeminate, not to say right down effete when a lynchin', that by rights it would be stretching its importance even to refer to it in conversation, is raised to the dignity of a political issue. As everyone knows, a hangin' is always a popular play, riddin' the community of an ondesirable, an' at the same time bein' a warnin' to others to polish up their rectitude. But it seems, from what I was able to glean, that this particular hangin' didn't win universal acclaim, owin' to the massacre of Purdy not bein' deplored none." Once more the half-breed emitted a strangling cough, and Tex eyed him narrowly. "Somethin' seems to ail your throat." "_Oui_, A'm swal' de piece tabac'." "Well just hang onto it 'til it gets a little darker an' we'll have supper," said the Texan, dryly, and resumed.