They met the Ramblin' Kid, crossing from the circular corral to
the bunk-house.
"Come on," Bert called to him, "Old Heck and Ophelia's gone and got
married! We're going up to the house to sympathize with the widow!"
"I ain't needed," the Ramblin' Kid answered with a careless laugh. "You
fellers can take my 'love' to th' afflicted couple!"
After the cowboys had gone to the house Skinny went and got Old Pie
Face. Stopping at the stable, he saddled the pinto and strolled over to
the bunk-house. The Ramblin' Kid was lying stretched on his bed. Skinny
rolled the white shirt carefully into a bundle and wrapped a newspaper
around it.
"What you goin' to do?" the Ramblin' Kid asked.
"I'm goin' to town!" Skinny answered shortly. "I'm going up to Eagle
Butte and get on a hell of a drunk--if I can get hold of any boot-leg
whisky--Carolyn June and me have bu'sted up on our love-making!"
"Going to get drunk, are you?" the Ramblin' Kid queried with a note of
scorn in his voice, "an' forget your sorrows?"
"Yes," Skinny retorted, "I'm going to get drunk as you was the day of
the race!"
"Drunk as I was th' day of th' race?" the Ramblin' Kid repeated
quizzically.
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