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"Say!" began Bud eagerly, and then he stopped, as if he had thought better. "What's the matter?" asked Nort. "Don't you know somebody who rides just like that?" Bud inquired. "Some one we all know?" Nort and Dick uttered exclamations. Bud's words were all that was needed to set in motion a slumbering train of thought. "Looks to me like he was hurt," affirmed Yellin' Kid.
Ah get enough hauling round to do in the mud, without anything extra," he added. Bud's curiosity was suffering. "Ain' you-all goin' to see him?" "You tell him what Ah say." The Doctor picked up his book with an air of dismissal. "Shut the do' tight," he called, and then read the same page three times over with unthinking mind, until he heard Bob's step coming down the stairs. "Bob." "Sir?"
Even Bud's round, blue eyes regarded her with approval and interest. She couldn't help thinking, if her own baby boy had lived, would he ever have been like Bud? And once she smiled at him, and Bud smiled back, a real boy-like, frank, hearty grin. It was all like taking dinner in the Kingdom of Heaven to Mom Wallis, and getting glory aforetime.
Bud's six-shooter lay in its scabbard ten feet away from his hand. He paid not the slightest heed to the approaching horseman. This attitude of a Texas ranchman was so different from the old-time custom that I marvelled. Instinctively I turned to inspect the possible foe that menaced us in the rear.
"Think yuh can beat Skeeter, young feller?" Pop shambled up to inquire anxiously, his beard brushing Bud's shoulder while he leaned close. "Remember what I told ye. You stick by me an' I'll stick by you. You shook on it, don't forgit that, young feller." Bud had forgotten, but he made haste to redeem his promise. "Last Sunday, Pop, I had to play it alone.
This food he at once laid down on the cloth, which he had spread out on Bud's table, and bade the boys help themselves, at the same time and without any further invitation helping himself to the beans and pork. "Wait, and I'll get you a cup of hot coffee," and Bud jumped to his feet and hurried to where Ham was superintending the boiling of a pot of coffee over the camp-fire.
The " Bill cussed himself out of breath. When he stopped, Bud took up the refrain. It was not his horse, of course, but an unwritten law of the range had been broken, and that was any honest rider's affair. Besides, Bill was a pal of Bud's. "Hangin''s too good for 'im, whoever done it," he finished vindictively. "I'd lay low, if I was you, Bill.
"Let it dry a minute an' I'll bet ye that what-you-may-call-um will be as tight as a drum. No, don't give me no credit fer ther idee. I seen a feller fix his gasoline gig that way one day when I was down in San Antone," At the expiration of a few anxious minutes, water was poured into the radiator, and, to their immense relief, Bud's hastily contrived bit of plumbing worked.
He says he's located the rustlers' camp and must hand Jeff the news before while he has time. Jeff's gone out there, and Sikkem's one of the gang and escaped from Orrville four years ago." "How d'you know?" It was Bud's heavy voice put the question. It was full of stern command. "I've seen him. I know him, and he knows me. He he wrote this and sent it me." Elvine thrust the crumpled note at Bud.
Bud's glance followed hers through the window that overlooked the corrals and the outbuildings. Lew was coming up to the house with a slicker over his head to keep off the drizzle. "Well, remember I'd do anything for you that I'd do for my mother or my sister Dulcie. And I wish you'd call on me just as they would, if you get in a pinch and need me.
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