“Boss, get it off your chest,” advised the cowboy. “You’ll feel better. An’ so will we.”
“Mason bawled like one of his bulls,” resumed Wade. “The barefaced front he made!—But it was no good. Harrobin calmly betrayed him. Shore that rustler wanted Mason, and Stewart, too, in on any deal he got.… Gosh, he was ugly.”
“Mason bawled, huh? He shore was a loudmouthed man,” replied Pencarrow. “What else did he do?”
Wade bent over to remove his wet and blackened socks.
“He—drew on me.”
“Aw now—he did?” ejaculated Kinsey, his breath whistling.
“Mason drew on you?—Haw! Haw!” returned the Texan harshly. “Wal, then, how about Harrobin?”
“Pencarrow, we hanged that hombre!”
Wade did not analyze what possessed him when for the first time in years he shaved off his beard. He scarcely recognized the
