“You bet.”  He turned and pointed eagerly to the west.  “There’s another mountain over there I bet you don’t know the name of.”

“Which one do you mean?  I see several.”

“That long, black lookin’ one.  Do you know about it?”

“I’m really afraid that I don’t.”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Billy, proud of his superior knowledge.  “That there’s Tailholt Mountain.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, and Nick Cambert and Yavapai Joe lives over there.  Do you know about them?”

The tall man shook his head.  “No, I don’t believe that I do.”

Little Billy lowered his voice to a mysterious whisper.  “Well, I’ll tell you.  Only you mus’n’t ever say anything ’bout it out loud.  Nick and Yavapai is cattle thieves.  They been a-brandin’ our calves, an’ Phil, he’s goin’ to catch ’em at it some day, an’ then they’ll wish they hadn’t.  Phil, he’s my pardner, you know.”

“And a fine pardner, too, I’ll bet,” returned the stranger, as if not wishing to acquire further information about the men of Tailholt Mountain.

“You bet he is,” came the instant response.  “Only Jim Reid, he don’t like him very well.”

“That’s too bad, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  You see, Jim Reid is Kitty’s daddy.  They live over there.”  He pointed across the meadow to where, a mile away, a light twinkled in the window of the Pot-Hook-S ranch house.  “Kitty Reid’s a mighty nice girl, I tell you, but Jim, he says that there needn’t no cow-puncher come around tryin’ to get her, ’cause she’s been away to school, you know, an’ I think Phil—­”

“Whoa!  Hold on a minute, sonny,” interrupted Patches hastily.

“What’s the matter?” questioned Little Billy.

“Why, it strikes me that a boy with a pardner like ‘Wild Horse Phil’ ought to be mighty careful about how he talked over that pardner’s private affairs with a stranger.  Don’t you think so?”

“Mebby so,” agreed Billy.  “But you see, I know that Phil wants Kitty ’cause—­”

“Sh!  What in the world is that?” whispered Patches in great fear, catching his small companion by the arm.

“That!  Don’t you know an owl when you hear one?  Gee! but you’re a tenderfoot, ain’t you?” Catching sight of the Dean who was coming toward them, he shouted gleefully.  “Uncle Will, Mr. Patches is scared of an owl.  What do you know about that; Patches is scared of an owl!”

“Your Aunt Stella wants you,” laughed the Dean.

And Billy ran off to the house to share his joke on the tenderfoot with his Aunt Stella and his “pardner,” Phil.

“I’ve got to go to town to-morrow,” said the Dean.  “I expect you better go along and get your trunk, or whatever you have and some sort of an outfit.  You can’t work in them clothes.”

Patches answered hesitatingly.  “Why, I think I can get along all right, Mr. Baldwin.”

“But you’ll want your stuff—­your trunk or grip—­or whatever you’ve got,” returned the Dean.