Don't you
think so?"
The Dean--his eyes still fixed on the face of the new man--answered
slowly, "I reckon that's so, Patches. When you come to think about it,
it _must_ be so. One way or another every man that takes what he ain't
earned has to pay for it."
"Who is he?" asked the visitors of Curly and Bob, as they went for their
horses, when the meal was over.
The Cross-Triangle men shook their heads.
"Just blew in one day, and the Dean hired him," said Bob.
"But he's the handiest man with his fists that's ever been in this neck
of the woods. If you don't believe it, just you start something," added
Curly with enthusiasm.
"Found it out, did you?" laughed Bert.
"In something less than a minute," admitted Curly.
"Funny name!" mused "Shorty."
Bob grinned. "That's what Curly thought--at first."
"And then he took another think, huh?"
"Yep," agreed Curly, "he sure carries the proper credentials to make any
name that he wants to wear good enough for me."
The visitors mounted their horses, and sat looking appraisingly at the
tall figure of Honorable Patches, as that gentleman passed them at a
little distance, on his way to the barn.
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