hermutt till I got a little nigher straight. It's a
thing that don't often happen," he added, in self-extenuation; "but
the party, it done got away with me. Now you know all about it, an'
you'd better hand over them weapons."

[Illustration: "YOU BETTER HAND OVER THEM WEAPONS!" (Page 220)]

In spite of his civility, he was plainly angry, and I was the more
resolved not to yield. The storm had been gradually lessening, the
rain had subsided to a mere drizzle, and, in the increasing silence,
I plainly heard the musical tinkle of old Cleo's bell. It came from
beyond the ridge, so that it was certain that the cows were in the
little green valley where I had hoped to find them. I started to climb
the ridge, remarking over my shoulder to the baffled cowboy, "You'll
find your things in the pine, where I told you."

"Say, now, don't make me go down there on the high road!" he pleaded;
"some one might see me and tell the boss. I won't touch the consarned
dog if you'll give me the gun; I won't, honest! The boss, he thinks
I'm on the range now, an' it's where I had ort to be."

I was sorry for him, but my fear was greater than my sympathy. Guard
had torn the skirt of his coat in such a manner that it trailed behind
as he walked, like a long and very disreputable pennant, and I could
not be blind to the malevolent looks that he turned on my canine
follower in spite of his fair promises.

"I never heard of any one's being the better for drinking whiskey," I
volunteered, as a bit of information that might be of interest to him.
Then I started on again, to be brought to an abrupt halt by hearing a
voice on the trail below calling in a tone of piercing anxiety:

"Leslie! Leslie! Leslie!" The voice was Jessie's.

"Jessie, I am here!" I called back re-assuringly, and ran down in the
direction of the voice, leaving the cowboy staring.

In a moment I came face to face with my sister as she panted,
breathless, up the trail.

"Oh, Leslie! Leslie!" she gasped. "What a chase I have had after you!"

"Why did you follow me? I have the cows--or they have themselves--and
your skirts are all wet."

For answer, Jessie gazed at me with an expression curiously compounded
of horror and dismay.

"The coat! Where is the coat?" she gasped.

I remembered then that in my eagerness to escape from the cave I had
left the coat lying as I had used it, rolled up for a pillow.

"It's in the Hermit's cave," I said meekly, ashamed to admit that I