"My partner's horse is my horse, bunky—
From his fetlock to the bucking-strap,
From his flying hoofs to the saddle-flap—
My partner's horse is my horse, bunky.
"My partner's gun is my gun, bunky—
From the chamber to the trigger-guard;
And the butt like a friend's hand gripping hard—
My partner's gun is my gun, bunky.
"My partner's heart is my heart, bunky—
And like matched horses galloping well,
They will beat together through heaven and hell—
My partner's heart is my heart, bunky."
He swerved his mare sharply to the left and took her hand with a strong grip.
"Jack, of all the men I've ever known, I'd rather walk with you, I'd rather talk with you, I'd rather ride with you, I'd rather fight for you. Jack, you're the best pal that ever wore spurs, and the gamest sport."
"Of all the men you ever knew," she said, "I suppose that I am."
He did not hear the low voice, for he was look-ing out over the canon and whistling the refrain of her song happily. A few moments later they swung out onto the very crest of the range.
On all sides the hills dropped away through the gloom of the evening, brown near by, but falling off through a faint blue haze and growing blue-black with the distance. A sharp wind, chill with the coming of night, cut at them. Not a hundred feet overhead shot a low-winging hawk back from his
