“You’re elected,” announced Shoop.

And the by-play was understood by the three men, yet each maintained his unchanged expression of countenance.

“You see how I’m fixed, boys,” said the sheriff.  “Got to stick by my constituent or he’ll howl.”

“We’re in no hurry, Jim.  Just drove into town to look around a little.”

“I’ll take him now,” said Mrs. Jim, as she came from the kitchen drying her hands on her apron.

The elector, however, was of a different mind.  He greeted his mother with a howl and a series of windmill revolutions of his arms and legs as she caught him up.

“Got mighty free knee-action,” remarked Shoop.  “Mebby when he’s bedded down for the night you can come over to the ‘Palace.’”

“I’ll be right with you.”  And the sheriff slipped into his coat.  “How you feeling, Jack?”

“Pretty good.  That’s a great boy of yours.”

“Sure got your brand,” added Shoop.  “Built close to the ground like his dad.”

Sheriff Banks accepted these hardy compliments with an embarrassed grin and followed his guests to the doorway.

“Good-night!” called Mrs. Jim from the obscurity of the bedroom.

“Good-night, ma’am!” from Shoop.

“Good-night!” said Corliss.  “Take good care of that yearling.”

“Well, now, John, as if I wouldn’t!”

“Molly would come out,” apologized Jim, “only the kid is—­is grazin’.  How’s the feed holdin’ out on the Concho?” which question following in natural sequence was not, however, put accidentally.

“Fair,” said Corliss.  “We looked for you up that way.”

“I was over on the Reservation.  I sent Tom up there to see after things,” and the sheriff gestured toward the distant Concho.  “Sent him up to-night.  Let’s go over to the office.”

Corliss shook his head.  “Don’t want to see him, just now.  Besides, I want to say a few things private.”

“All right.  There was a buyer from Kansas City dropped in to town to-day.  Didn’t see him, did you?”

“Cattle?”

“Uhuh.”

“No.  We just got in.”

They turned and walked up the street, nodding to an occasional lounger, laughing and talking easily, yet each knew that their banter was a meandering current leading to something deeper which would be sounded before they separated.

Sheriff Banks suddenly stopped and slapped his thigh.  “By Gum!  I clean forgot to ask if you had chuck.  You see that kid of mine—­”

“Sure!  But we put the ‘Palace’ two feeds to the bad,” asserted Shoop.

They drifted to the hotel doorway and paused at the counter where each gravely selected a cigar.  Then they clumped upstairs to Corliss’s room.  Jim Banks straddled a chair and faced his friends.

Shoop, excusing himself with humorous politeness, punched the pillows together and lay back on the bed which creaked and rustled beneath his weight.  “These here corn-husk mattresses is apologizin’,” he said, twisting around and leaning on his elbow.