"Oh!" Pink looked properly impressed. "If it isn't too personal—er—is there a—that is, are you——"
"An outlaw?" Cal assisted. "I sure am—and then some. I'm wanted for perjury in South Dakota, manslaughter in Texas, and bigamy in Utah. I'm all bad."
"Oh, I hope not!" Pink looked distressed. "I'm very sorry," he added simply, "and I hope the posses won't chase you."
Cal shook his head very, very gravely. "You can't most always tell," he declared gloomily. "I expect I'll have an invite to a necktie-party some day."
"I've been to necktie-parties myself." Pink brightened visibly. "I don't like them; you always get the wrong girl."
"I don't like 'em, either," agreed Cal. "I'm always afraid the wrong necktie will be mine. Were you ever lynched?"
Pink moved uneasily. "I—I don't remember that
