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 rope in Kansas City. Father had a ranch down on the Nueces, and we got smart and begun to drive cattle up to Dakota to supply the government. They butchered them for the Sioux, you know."

"And you drove one time too many, I guess, didn't you, Texas?"

Texas twisted his head in combination of assent and expression of seriousness as he reached for another cake.

"You sure are good on the guess, too, Miss Fannie."

"Fannie," she corrected, with gentle firmness.

"Fannie," he repeated, like a dutiful boy.

"Go ahead, Texas; tell me about it."

"The last trip we drove in ten thousand. The Indians met us on the way and butchered them for themselves. But we got out of it right happily, you might say."

"Did they shoot you up any, Texas?"

"Not to amount to much, Fannie."

"How much, Texas?"

"Oh, three or four times, here and there."

"Three or four—which was it, Texas?"

"Four, Fannie."

Fannie appeared to be thinking the situation over. She sat with her head bent toward the fire a little to keep the glare out of her eyes, and turned out two or three cakes before she spoke again.