Endicott laughed:  “When I learned there was such a place as Timber City, I intended to leave her there and return alone—­only I was not going to wait ’til morning to do it.  But she wouldn’t hear of it, so we compromised—­and she came with me.”

Tex smiled:  “It’s a great thing to learn how to compromise.”  He stared for a few moments toward the west, where the setting sun left the sky ablaze with fiery light.  Then, still smiling, he advanced toward them with both hands extended:  “I wish you luck,” he said, softly.  “I cared for you a mighty lot, Miss Alice, but I’m a good loser.  I reckon, maybe it’s better things worked out the way they did.”  Endicott pressed the outstretched hand with a mighty grip and turned swiftly away to fumble at his latigo strap.  And there were tears in the girl’s eyes as her fingers lingered for a moment in the Texan’s grasp:  “Oh, I—­I’m sorry.  I——­”

“You don’t need to be,” the man whispered.  “You chose the best of the two.”  He indicated Endicott with a slight jerk of the head.  “You’ve got a real man there—­an’ they’re oncommon hard to find.  An’ now, if you’ve got some grub along suppose we tie into it.  I’m hungry enough to gnaw horn!”

As Alice proceeded to set out the food, the Texan’s eyes for the first time strayed to the horses.  “How much did Long Bill Kearney soak you for the loan of his saddle-horses?”

“Nothing,” answered Endicott, “and he supplied us with the grub, too.”

“He, what?”

“Fact,” smiled the other, “he demurred a little, but——­”

“Long Bill’s the hardest character in Choteau County.”

Endicott glanced at his swollen knuckles:  “He is hard, all right.”

Tex eyed him in amazement, “Win, you didn’t—­punch his head for him!”

“I did—­and his stomach, too.  We were nearly starved, and he refused us food.  Told us to go back where we came from.  So I reached for him and he dozed off.”

“But where was his guns?”

“I took them away from him before I tied him up.”

“Where is he now?”

“Tied up.  He called me a lot of names because I turned the horses into his alfalfa.  They were hungry and they enjoyed it, but Bill nearly blew up.  Then we got dinner and took the horses and came away.”

“You’re the luckiest man out of hell!  You doggoned pilgrim, you!” Tex roared with laughter:  “Why accordin’ to dope, he’d ought to just et you up.”

“He whined like a puppy, when we left him, for fear we would get lost and he would starve to death.  He is yellow.”

“His kind always is—­way down in their guts.  Only no one ever made him show it before.”

“How far did we miss the water-hole last night?” asked Endicott, as he and Tex sat talking after the others had sought their blankets.

“About two miles.  The wind drifted us to the east.  Bat didn’t get far ’til his horse went down, so he bled him like we did, and holed up ’til the storm quit.  Then, after things cleared up, we got here about the same time.  The water ain’t much—­but it sure did taste good.”  For a long time the two lay close together looking up at the million winking stars.  Tex tossed the butt of a cigarette into the grey dust.  “She’s a great girl, Win.  Game plumb to her boot heels.”