With that, even before Bill McAllister could ask the reason for these requests, Allen curled up beneath a clump of brush and was asleep. CHAPTER XXIII AN OLD FRIEND Bill watched him for a few minutes, then swung into his saddle and started to ride the pasture. He had reached the lower end when he saw a horseman galloping toward him from the direction of the ranch. A few minutes later, he recognized the rider as Snoots Stevens, a tall, gawky man of thirty with a long, thin face. "Why for yuh out here?" McAllister asked after Stevens had brought his horse to a sliding stop. "Nothin'--only----" Snoots broke off and then added: "Where's that kid?" "The kid--why?" "Nothin'--only I hears them two twins talkin' about him plenty--I hears them say they wasn't goin' to take no chances, but was goin' to drop him," Snoots blurted out. Bill McAllister had no reply for this. He chewed reflectively and tried to decide what this would lead to. It might be talk and then, again, it might mean that their suspicions had hardened to certainty. "Yuh better tell that kid to high-tail it out of here. Where is he?" Snoots demanded. "I'll go tell him. He's over by them cottonwoods," Bill McAllister replied. The two walked their horses toward the trees They were no nearer than two hundred yards before Allen awoke. A swift glance told him they were friends. He glanced at the sun, calculated the time, and decided he had napped long enough. He took a thick sandwich of bacon and bread from his pocket and was contentedly gnawing at this when the two slipped from their horses. McAllister had Snoots repeat his story. Allen frowned thoughtfully as he leisurely finished his frugal meal. Having swallowed the last crumb, he negligently lit a cigarette. "Yuh act as if them twins ain't nothin' a-tall," McAllister snapped. "I'm tellin' yuh them hombres is hell on wheels, an' if they starts throwin' lead at yuh, every one of the killers will join pronto." "What yuh figger I better do--cut out an' run?" Allen asked with a grin. McAllister had no suggestion to make, so he grew silent and shook his head. Snoots looked curiously from the older to the younger man. He recalled the scene in the bunk house the first night Allen arrived, and his eyes popped out as he began to understand the truth. Allen looked at McAllister with a broad grin. "There ain't no use growlin'. I knows them twins is plumb homicidous, but I got to stay an' try to fool 'em, 'cause there ain't nothin' else to do. So it won't do no good to fuss about it." The old-timer realized that this was Allen's simple philosophy. There was no use worrying about a bridge until you came to it. As McAllister watched Allen saddle Honeyboy, he knew that all thought of the twins had been dismissed from the boy's mind. Snoots was about to speak, when a peremptory gesture of Allen's hand held him silent.