"Why, sure!" Pink threw a leg over the bench and got up with cheerful alacrity. "I'll do it now, if you say so; I didn't know but what that was some new fad of yours, like--"

"Fad!" Andy repeated the word like an explosion.

"Well, by golly, Andy needn't think I'm goin' to foller that there style," Slim stated solemnly. "I need m' rope for something else than to tie n' clothes on with."

"I sure do hate to see a man wear funny things just to make himself conspicuous," Pink observed, while he fumbled at the knot, which was intricate. Andy jerked away from him that he might face him ragefully.

"Maybe this looks funny to you," he cried, husky with wrath. "But I can't seem to see the joke, myself. I admit I let then herders make a monkey of me.... They slipped up behind, going down into Antelope coulee, and slid down the bluff onto me; and, before I could get up, they got me tied, all right. I licked one of 'en before that, and thought I had 'en gentled down--"

Andy stopped short, silenced by that unexplainable sense which warns us when our words are received with cold disbelief.

"Mh-hm--I thought maybe you'd run up against a hostile jackrabbit, or something," Pink purred, and went back to his place on the bench.

"Haw-haw-haw-w-w!" came Big Medicine's tardy bellow. "That's more reasonable than the sheepherder story, by cripes!"

Andy looked at them much as he had stared up at the sky before he began to swear--speechlessly, with a trembling of the muscles around his mouth. He was quite white, considering how tanned he was, and his forehead was shiny, with beads of perspiration standing thickly upon it.

"Weary, I wish you'd untie this rope. I can't." He spoke still in that peculiar, husky tone, and, when the last words were out, his teeth went together with a snap.

Weary glanced inquiringly across at the Native Son, who was regarding Andy steadily, as one gazes upon a tangled rope, looking for the end which will easiest lead to an untangling.

Miguel's brown eyes turned languidly to meet the look. "You'd better untie him," he advised in his soft drawl. "He may not be in the habit of doing it--but he's telling the truth."

"Untie me, Miguel," begged Andy, going over to him, "and let me at this bunch."

"I'll do it," said Weary, and rose pacifically. "I kinda believe you myself, Andy. But you can't blame the boys none; you've fooled 'em till they're dead shy of anything they can't see through. And, besides, it sure does look like a plant. I'd back you single-handed against a dozen sheepherders like then two we've been chasing around. If I hadn't felt that way I wouldn't have sent yuh out alone with 'em."

"Well, Andy needn't think he's goin' to stick me on that there story," Slim declared with brutal emphasis. "I've swallered too many baits, by golly. He's figurin' on gettin' us all out on the war-path, runnin' around in circles, so's't he can give us the laugh. I'll bet, by golly, he paid then herders to tie him up like that. He can't fool me!"

"Say, Slim, I do believe your brains is commencin' to sprout!"

Big Medicine thumped him painfully upon the back by way of accenting the compliment. "You got the idee, all right."

Andy stood quiet while Weary unwound the rope; lifted his numbed arms with some difficulty, and displayed to the doubters his rope-creased wrists, and purple, swollen hands.

"I couldn't fight a caterpiller right now," he said thickly.

"Look at them hands! Do yuh call that a josh? I've been tied up like a bed-roll for five hours, you--" Well, never mind, he merely repeated a part of what he had recited aloud in Antelope coulee, the only difference being that he applied the vitriolic utterances to the Happy Family instead of to sheepherders, and that with the second recitation he gained much in fluency and dramatic delivery.