Preparations
"It's Nelson," softly said a voice from outside the window. "Don't make so much noise," it continued, as its owner dropped a handful of pebbles on the ground. "I wanted you awake before I showed myself. Never like to walk into a man's room in th' dark, when he's asleep an' not expectin' visitors. 'Specially when he's worryin' about rustlers. It ain't allus healthy."
"All right," growled the foreman, "but you don't have to throw 'em; you can toss 'em, easy, from there. I've got a welt on my head as big as a chew of tobacco. I'm shore glad you couldn't find nothin' out there that was any bigger. You comin' in or am I comin' out?"
The door squeaked open and squeaked shut and then a chair squeaked.
"You got a musical room," observed Johnny, chuckling softly. "Yore bunk squeaked, too, when you sat up."
"It was a narrow squeak for you," grunted Logan, reluctantly putting down the Colt. "If I'd seen a head I'd 'a' let drive on suspicion. I was havin' a cussed bad dream an' was all het up. My cows was goin' up Little Canyon in whole herds an' I couldn't seem to stop 'em nohow."
"Keepin' my head out of trouble is my long suit," chuckled Johnny. "An' there ain't none of yore cows
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