If any of you punchers wants to make the ride, the way's open,
ain't it?"
"Now, don't you go on the prod, too," soothed the other. "We wasn't
meanin' nothin' agin Phil."
"Well, what's the matter with Patches?" demanded the Cross-Triangle man,
whose heart was sorely troubled by the mystery of his foreman's mood.
"Ain't nobody _said_ as there was anything the matter. Fact is, don't
nobody _know_ that there is."
And for some reason Curly had no answer.
"Don't it jest naturally beat thunder the way he's cottoned up to that
yellow dog of a Yavapai Joe?" mused another, encouraged by Curly's
silence. "Three or four of the boys told how they'd seen 'em together
off an' on, but I didn't think nothin' of it until I seen 'em myself
when we was workin' over at Tailholt. It was one evenin' after supper. I
went down to the corral to fix up that Pedro horse's back, when I heard
voices kind o' low like. I stopped a minute, an' then sort o' eased
along in the dark, an' run right onto 'em where they was a-settin' in
the door o' the saddle room, cozy as you please. Yavapai sneaked away
while I was gettin' the lantern an' lightin' it, but Patches, he jest
stayed an' held the light for me while I fixed ol' Pedro, jest as if
nothin' had happened.
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