“And so I come back, yu’ see,” he said. “For I figured on getting Pedro back as soon as I could when I sold him to, yu’.” “You’re behind the times, Shorty,” said Balaam.

Shorty looked blank. “You’ve sure not sold Pedro?” he exclaimed.

“Them Indians,” said Balaam, “got after me on the Bow Leg trail. Got after me and that Virginia man. But they didn’t get me.” Balaam wagged his bullet head to imply that this escape was due to his own superior intelligence. The Virginian had been stupid, and so the Indians had got him. “And they shot your horse,” Balaam finished. “Stop and get some dinner with the boys.” Having eaten, Shorty rode away in mournful spirits. For he had made so sure of once more riding and talking with Pedro, his friend whom he had taught to shake hands.