"If you had tried to use your gun--even if you could have
managed to hit him--you wouldn't have stopped him in time. If you had
been where you could have put a bullet between his eyes, it might have
worked, but"--he smiled again--"I'm mighty glad you didn't think to try
any experiments. Tell me something else," he added. "Did you realize the
chance you were taking for yourself?"
Patches shook his head. "I can't say that I realized anything except
that you were in a bad fix, and that it was up to me to do something
quick. How did it happen, anyway?" He seemed anxious to turn the
conversation.
"Diamond stepped in that hole there," explained Phil. "When he turned
over I sure thought it was all day for me. Believe me, I won't forget
this, Patches."
For another moment there was an embarrassed silence; then Patches said,
"What puzzles me is, why you didn't take a shot at him, after you were
up, instead of risking your neck again trying to rope him."
"Why, there was no use killing a good bull, as long as there was any
other way. It's my business to keep him alive; that's what I started in
to do, wasn't it?" And thus the cowboy, in a simple word or two, stated
the creed of his profession, a creed that permits no consideration of
personal danger or discomfort when the welfare of the employer's
property is at stake.
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