And there came Sudden, driving back from the railroad--Tex knew he was expected back that forenoon--and reaching the gate before the stage had come in sight around the southwest spur of the ridge it could not cross.

Sudden liked Johnny--and Tex knew that too.

(Tex made it his business to know a good deal which had nothing to do with his legitimate work.) And good riders who did not get drunk every chance that offered were not to be hired every day in the week.
Johnny opened the gate, but Sudden did not drive through.

He stopped and eyed the suitcase and the saddle and the chaps, and then he looked at Johnny.
"Too much song-bird stuff ?" he asked, which showed how sensitive was the finger Sudden kept on the pulse of his outfit.
"I've got to work for a living, but I don't have to work with that bunch of idiots," Johnny stated with much dignity.
Sudden rubbed a gauntleted hand across the lower part of his face; and that, I think, is why Johnny saw himself taken as seriously as his young egotism demanded.
"Rather be by yourself, would you?
Well, throw your baggage in the back of the car.

I want you to catch up a couple of horses and go on down to Sinkhole.