"_Gringo!_" shrilled Marcelina, flaunting her dark hair, "_Pendejo Texano!_ Ahhr!" She shuddered and thrust out her tongue defiantly, but as the "fool Texan" only laughed and clattered into the store she paused and edged back towards the door for further observations. "W'y, hello, Angy!" cried Pecos, racking jovially up to the bar, "how's the champeen? Sober as a judge, hey? Well, gimme another shot of that snake-pisen and if it don't kill me I may swear off too, jest to be sociable! Say, what does 'pen_day_ho' mean?" He glanced roguishly back towards the door, where he knew Marcelina was listening, and laughed when he got the translation. "Dam' fool, hey? Well, I thought it was something like that—kinder p'lite and lady-like, you know. Marcelina hung that on me as I come in, but I called her a Mex and I'll stand by it. Where's Old Crit?" Angevine Thorne drew himself up and regarded the cowboy with grave displeasure. "Mr. Crittenden is out riding," he said, "and I'll thank you not to refer to the nativity of my friend, Miss Garcia." "Certainly not—to be sure!" protested Pecos Dalhart. "If you will jest kindly give me an introduction to the young lady I'll—" "See you in hell first," broke in Angy, with asperity. "Where you been all the time?" "Ramblin' around, ramblin' around," answered Pecos, waving his hand vaguely. "What's the chances for a little music and song to while the time away? I'm lonely as a dog." "Joe Garcia tells me he's been packin' grub out to you at Carrizo—what you been doin' in that God-forsaken hole?" "Yore friend Joe talks too much," observed Pecos, briefly, "and I reckon _you_ tell everything you know, don't you? Well and good, then, I'll keep you out of trouble with the Boss by listenin' to what you know already. Can you sing the 'Ranger,' or 'California Joe'? No? Can't even sing 'Kansas,' can you? Well, it's too bad about you, but I'm going to show you that they's another canary bird on the Verde, and he can sure sing." With this declaration Pecos leaned back against the bar, squared his shoulders, and in a voice which had many a time carolled to a thousand head of cattle burst into a boastful song. "Ooh, I can take the wildest bronco Of the wild and woolly West; I can back him, I can ride him, Let him do his level best. I can handle any creature Ever wore a coat of hair, And I had a lively tussle With a tarnal grizzly bear." He glanced slyly towards the door, threw out his chest, and essayed once more to attract the attention of his girl, if she was anywhere within a mile. "Ooh, I can rope and tie a long-horn, Of the wildest Texas brand, And in any disagreement, I can play a leading hand. I—" A dark mass of hair shading a pair of eyes as black and inquisitive as a chipmunk's appeared suddenly in the vacant square of the doorway and instantly the bold cowboy stopped his song.