It seemed to him he ought to at least say something to salvage a little pride, but before he could think of anything Gus came over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You should have rode on last night, Dish," he said with an irritating grin. "You may never see the last of this outfit now."

"Well, you was the one that invited me," Dish said, highly annoyed. Since there was no help for it short of disgrace, he started for the lots.

"If you come to Chiny you can Stop digging," Augustus called after him. "That's the place where the men wear pigtails."

"I wouldn't ride him if I were you," Call said. "We may need him."

"I didn't send him off to dig no well," Augustus said. "Don't you know that's an insult to his dignity? I'm surprised he went. I thought Dish had more grit."

"He said he'd stay," Call said. "I ain't feeding him three times a day to sit around and play cards with you."

"No need to now," Augustus said. "I got Jake for that. I bet you don't get Jake down in your well."

At that moment Jake stepped out on the back porch, his sleeves rolled up and his face red from the scrubbing he had given it with the old piece of sacking they used for a towel.

"That old pistolero's been cleaning his gun on this towel," Jake said. "It's filthy dirty."

"If it's just his six-shooter he's cleaning on it you oughtn't to complain," Augustus said. "There's worse things he could wipe on it."

"Hell, don't you men ever wash?" Jake asked. "That old Mex didn't even want to give me a pan of water."

It was the kind of remark Call had no patience with, but that was Jake, more interested in fancy arrangements than in the more important matters.

"Once you left, our standards slipped," Augustus said. "The majority of this outfit ain't interested in refinements."

"That's plain," Jake said. "There's a damn pig on the back porch. What about them biscuits?"

"Much as I've missed you, I ain't overworking my sourdough just because you and Deets couldn't manage to get here in time," Augustus said. "What I will do is fry some meat."

He fried it, and Jake and Deets ate it, while Bolivar sat in the corner and sulked at the thought of two more breakfasts to wash up after. It amused Augustus to watch Jake eat-he was so fastidious about it-but the sight put Call into a black fidget. Jake could spend twenty minutes picking at some eggs and a bit of bacon. It was obvious to Augustus that Call was trying to be polite and let Jake get some food in his belly before he told his story, but Call was not a patient man and had already controlled his urge to get to work longer than was usual. He stood in the door, watching the whitening sky and looking restless enough to bite himself.

"So where have you been, Jake?" Augustus asked, to speed things up.

Jake looked thoughtful, as he almost always did. His coffee-colored eyes always seemed to be traveling leisurely over scenes from his own past, and they gave the impression that he was a man of sorrows-an impression very appealing to the ladies. It disgusted Augustus a little that ladies were so taken in by Jake's big eyes. In fact, Jake Spoon had had a perfectly easy life, doing mostly just what he pleased and keeping his boots clean; what his big eyes concealed was a slow-working brain. Basically Jake just dreamed his way through life and somehow got by with it.

"Oh, I've been seeing the country," he said. "I was up to Montana two years ago. I guess that's what made me decide to come back, although I've been meaning to get back down this way and see you boys for some years."

Call came back in the room and straddled a chair, figuring he might as well hear it.

"What's Montana got to do with us?" he asked.

"Why, Call, you ought to see it," Jake said. "A prettier country never was."

"How far'd you go?" Augustus asked.

"Way up, past the Yellowstone," Jake said. "I was near to the Milk River. You can smell Canady from there."

"I bet you can smell Indians too," Call said. "How'd you get past the Cheyenne?"

"They shipped most of them out," Jake said. "Some of the Blackfeet are still troublesome. But I was with the Army, doing a little scouting."

That hardly made sense. Jake Spoon might scout his way across a card table, but Montana was something else.

"When'd you take to scouting?" Call asked dryly.

"Oh, I was just with a feller taking some beef to the Blackfeet," Jake said. "The Army came along to help."

"A lot of damn help the Army would be, driving beef," Gus said.

"They helped us keep our hair," Jake said, laying his knife and fork across his plate as neatly as if he were eating at a fancy table.

"My main job was to skeer the buffalo out of the way," he said.

"Buffalo," Augustus said. "I thought they was about gone."

"Pshaw," Jake said. "I must have seen fifty thousand up above the Yellowstone. The damn buffalo hunters ain't got the guts to take on them Indians. Oh, they'll finish them, once the Cheyenne and the Sioux finally cave in, and they may have even since I left. The damn Indians have the grass of Montana all to themselves. And has it got grass. Call, you ought to see it."

"I'd go today if I could fly," Call said.

"Be safer to walk," Augustus said. "By the time we walked up there maybe they would have licked the Indians."

"That's just it, boys," Jake said. "The minute they're licked there's going to be fortunes made in Montana. Why, it's cattle land like you've never seen, Call. High grass and plenty of water."

"Chilly, though, ain't it?" Augustus asked.

"Oh, it's got weather," Jake said. "Hell, a man can wear a coat."

"Better yet, a man can stay inside," Augustus said.

"I've yet to see a fortune made inside," Call said. "Except by a banker, and we ain't bankers. What did you have in mind, Jake?"

"Getting to it first," Jake said. "Round up some of these free cattle and take 'em on up. Beat all the other sons of bitches, and we'd soon be rich."

Augustus and Call exchanged looks. It was odd talk to be hearing from Jake Spoon, who had never been known for his ambition-much less for a fondness for cows. Pretty whores, pacing horses, and lots of clean shirts had been his main requirements in life.

"Why, Jake, what reformed you?" Gus asked. "You was never a man to hanker after fortune."

"Living with the cows from here to Montana would mean a change in your habits, if I remember them right," Call said.

Jake grinned his slow grin. "You boys," he said. "You got me down for lazier than I am. I ain't no lover of cow shit and trail dust, I admit, but I've seen something that you haven't seen: Montana. Just because I like to play cards don't mean I can't smell an opportunity when one's right under my nose. Why, you boys ain't even got a barn with a roof on it. I doubt it would bust you to move."

"Jake, if you ain't something," Augustus said. "Here we ain't seen hide nor hair of you for ten years and now you come riding in and want us to pack up and go north to get scalped."

"Well, Gus, me and Call are going bald anyway," Jake said. "You're the only one whose hair they'd want."

"All the more reason not to carry it to a hostile land," Augustus said. "Why don't you just calm down and play cards with me for a few days? Then when I've won all your money we'll talk about going places."

Jake whittled down a match and began to meticulously pick his teeth.

"By the time you clean me, Montana will be all settled up," he said. "I don't clean quick."

"What about that horse?" Call asked. "You didn't gant him like that just so you could get here and help us beat the rush to Montana. What's this about your luck running thick?"

Jake looked a little more sorrowful as he picked his teeth. "Kilt a dentist," he said. "A pure accident, but I kilt him."

"Where'd this happen?" Call asked.