"Glory be, but that's good news," declared the other, exultantly; "d'ye know I've been feelin' mighty sorry about that same gun, for fear I'd lost it; and you know what I think of the shootin'-stick. It was either drop everything, and get me arms tight around the neck of that blasted broncho, or else find myself standin' on me head. Gee whiz! but it was a mad race the little villain gave me before he fetched up here at the ranch house."