The novel for everyone who feels the lure of the untamed West.
Well, if you promise you won't tell nobody, I did cuss onct, when I struck the plough into a yellow-jacket's nest which I wa'n't aimin' to hit, nohow. Had the reins round my neck, not expectin' visitors, when them hornets come at me and the hoss without even ringin' the bell. That team drug me quite a spell afore I got loose. When I got enough dirt out of my mouth so as I could holler, I set to and said what I thought."
"Cussed the hosses and the doggone ole plough and them hornets--and everything!" exclaimed Pete.
"Nope, son, I cussed myself for hangin' them reins round my neck. What you say your name was?"
"Pete."
"What was the trader callin' you--any other name besides Pete?"
"Yes, I reckon he was. When he is good 'n' drunk he would be callin' me a doggone little--"
"Never mind, I know about that. I was meanin' your other name."
"My other name? I ain't got none. I'm Pete."
Annersley shook his head. "Well, pardner, you'll be Pete Annersley now. Watch o
