pop-gun will be guttin' some blameless man."

Forthwith the cattle country proceeded to get the agent used to it. The
news went over the sage-brush from Belle Fourche to Sweetwater, and

playful, howling horsemen made it their custom to go rioting with pistols
round the ticket office, educating the agent. His lungs improved, and he

came dimly to smile at this life which he did not understand. But the
company discerned no humor whatever in having its water-tank perforated,

which happened twice; and sheriffs and deputies and other symptoms of
authority began to invest Separ. Now what should authority do upon these

free plains, this wilderness of do-as-you-please, where mere breathing
the air was like inebriation? The large, headlong children who swept in

from the sage-brush and out again meant nothing that they called harm
until they found themselves resisted. Then presently happened that affair

of the cow-catcher; and later a too-zealous marshal, come about a
mail-car they had side-tracked and held with fiddles, drink, and

petticoats, met his death accidentally, at which they were sincerely
sorry for about five minutes. They valued their own lives as little, and

that lifts them forever from baseness at least. So the company,
concluding such things must be endured for a while yet, wrote their

letter, and you have seen how wrong the letter went. All it would do
would be from now on to fasten upon Separ its code of recklessness; to

make shooting the water-tank (for example) part of a gentleman's
deportment when he showed himself in town.

It was not now the season of heavy shipping; to-night their work would be
early finished, and then they were likely to play after their manner. To

arrive in such a place on her way to her brother, the felon in jail, made
the girl's journey seem doublyforlorn to me as I wandered down to the

corrals.
A small, bold voice hailed me. "Hello, you!" it said; and here was Billy

Lusk, aged nine, in boots and overalls, importantly useless with a stick,
helping the men prod the steers at the chute.

"Thought you were at school," said I.
"Ah, school's quit," returned Billy, and changed the subject. "Say, Lin's

hunting you. He's angling to eat at the hotel. I'm grubbing with the
outfit." And Billy resumed his specious activity.

Mr. McLean was in the ticket-office, where the newspaper had transiently
reminded him of politics. "Wall Street," he was explaining to the agent,

"has been lunched on by them Ross-childs, and they're moving on. Feeding
along to Chicago. We want--" Here he noticed me and, dragging his gauntlet

off, shook my hand with his lusty grasp.
"Your eldest son just said you were in haste to find me," I remarked.

"Lose you, he meant. The kid gets his words twisted."
"Didn't know you were a father, Mr. McLean," simpered the agent.

Lin fixed his eye on the man. "And you don't know it now," said he. Then
he removed his eye. "Let's grub," he added to me. My friend did not walk

to the hotel, but slowly round and about, with a face overcast. "Billy is
a good kid," he said at length, and, stopping, began to kick small mounds

in the dust. Politics floated lightly over him, but here was a matter
dwelling with him, heavy and real. "He's dead stuck on being a

cow-puncher," he presently said.
"Some day--" I began.

"He don't want to wait that long," Lin said, and smiled affectionately.
"And, anyhow, what is 'some day'? Some day we punchers will not be here.

The living will be scattered, and the dead--well, they'll be all right.
Have yu' studied the wire fence? It's spreading to catch us like nets do

the salmon in the Columbia River. No more salmon, no more cow-punchers,"
stated Mr. McLean, sententiously; and his words made me sad, though I

know that progress cannot spare land and water for such things. "But
Billy," Lin resumed, "has agreed to school again when it starts up in the

fall. He takes his medicine because I want him to." Affection crept anew
over the cow-puncher's face. "He can learn books with the quickest when

he wants, that Bear Creek school-marm says. But he'd ought to have a
regular mother till--till I can do for him, yu' know. It's onwholesome

him seeing and hearing the boys--and me, and me when I forget!--but
shucks! how can I fix it? Billy was sure enough dropped and deserted. But

when I found him the little calf could run and notice like everything!"
"I should hate your contract, Lin," said I. "Adopting's a touch-and-go

business even when a man has a home."
"I'll fill the contract, you bet! I wish the little son-of-a-gun was

mine. I'm a heap more natural to him than that pair of drunkards that got
him. He likes me: I think he does. I've had to lick him now and then, but

Lord! his badness is all right--not sneaky. I'll take him hunting next
month, and then the foreman's wife at Sunk Creek boards him till school.

Only when they move, Judge Henry'll make his Virginia man foreman--and
he's got no woman to look after Billy, yu' see."

"He's asking one hard enough," said I, digressing.
"Oh yes; asking! Talk of adopting--" said Mr. McLean, and his wide-open,

hazel eyes looked away as he coughed uneasily. Then abruptly looking at
me again, he said: "Don't you get off any more truck about eldest son and

that, will yu', friend? The boys are joshing me now--not that I care for
what might easy enough be so, but there's Billy. Maybe he'd not mind, but

maybe he would after a while; and I am kind o' set on--well--he didn't
have a good time till he shook that home of his, and I'm going to make

this old bitch of a world pay him what she owes him, if I can. Now you'll
drop joshing, won't yu'?" His forehead was moist over getting the thing

said and laying bare so much of his soul.
"And so the world owes us a good time, Lin?" said I.

He laughed shortly. "She must have been dead broke, then, quite a while,
you bet! Oh no. Maybe I used to travel on that basis. But see here" (Lin

laid his hand on my shoulder), "if you can't expect a good time for
yourself in reason, you can sure make the kids happy out o' reason, can't

yu'?"
I fairly opened my mouth at him.

"Oh yes," he said, laughing in that short way again (and he took his hand
off my shoulder); "I've been thinking a wonderful lot since we met last.

I guess I know some things yu' haven't got to yet yourself-- Why, there's
a girl!"

"That there is!" said I. "And certainly the world owes her a better--"
"She's a fine-looker," interrupted Mr. McLean, paying me no further

attention. Here the decrepit, straw-hatted proprietor of the Hotel
Brunswick stuck his beard out of the door and uttered "Supper!" with a

shrill croak, at which the girl rose.
"Come!" said Lin, "let's hurry!"

But I hooked my fingers in his belt, and in spite of his plaintive oaths
at my losing him the best seat at the table, told him in three words the

sister's devoted journey.
"Nate Buckner!" he exclaimed. "Him with a decent sister!"

"It's the other way round," said I. "Her with him for a brother!"
"He goes to the penitentiary this week," said Lin. "He had no more cash

to stake his lawyer with, and the lawyer lost interest in him. So his
sister could have waited for her convict away back at Joliet, and saved

time and money. How did she act when yu' told her?"
"I've not told her."

"Not? Too kind o' not your business? Well, well! You'd ought to know
better 'n me. Only it don't seem right to let her--no, sir; it's not

right, either. Put it her brother was dead (and Miss. Fligg's husband
would like dearly to make him dead), you'd not let her come slap up

against the news unwarned. You would tell her he was sick, and start her
gently."

"Death's different," said I.
"Shucks! And she's to find him caged, and waiting for stripes and a

shaved head? How d' yu' know she mightn't hate that worse 'n if he'd been
just shot like a man in a husband scrape, instead of jailed like a skunk

for thieving? No, sir, she mustn't. Think of how it'll be. Quick as the
stage pulls up front o' the Buffalo post-office, plump she'll be down