ts entire accommodation for man and beast under one
monotonous, shed-like roof, offered nothing to attract the eye. Still
less the prospect, on the one side two miles of arid waste to the
stunted, far-spaced pines in the distance, known as the "Barrens;" on
the other an apparently limitless level with darker patches of sage
brush, like the scars of burnt-out fires.

Dick Boyle approached the motionless Indian as a possible relief. "YOU
don't seem to care much if school keeps or not, do you, Lo?"

The Indian, who had been half crouching on his upturned soles, here
straightened himself with a lithe, animal-like movement, and stood up.
Boyle took hold of a corner of his blanket and examined it critically.

"Gov'ment ain't pampering you with A1 goods, Lo! I reckon the agent
charged 'em four dollars for that. Our firm could have delivered them to
you for 2 dols. 37 cents, and thrown in a box of beads in the bargain.
Suthin like this!" He took from his pocket a small box containing a
gaudy bead necklace and held it up before the Indian.

The savage, who had regarded him--or rather looked beyond him--with
the tolerating indifference of one interrupted by a frisking inferior
animal, here suddenly changed his expression. A look of childish
eagerness came into his gloomy face; he reached out his hand for the
trinket.

"Hol' on!" said Boyle, hesitating for a moment; then he suddenly
ejaculated, "Well! take it, and one o' these," and drew a business card
from his pocket, which he stuck in the band of the battered tall hat
of the aborigine. "There! show that to your friends, and when you're
wantin' anything in our line"--

The interrupting roar of laughter, coming from the box seat of the
coach, was probably what Boyle was expecting, for he turned away
demurely and walked towards the coach. "All right, boys! I've squared
the noble red man, and the star of empire is taking its westward way.
And I reckon our firm will do the 'Great Father' business for him at
about half the price that it is done in Washington."

But at this point the ostlers came hurrying out of the stables. "She's
comin'," said one. "That's her dust just behind the Lone Pine--and by
the way she's racin' I reckon she's comin' in mighty light."

"That's so," said the mail agent, standing up on the box seat for a
better view, "but darned ef I kin see any outside passengers. I reckon
we haven't waited for much."

Indeed, as the galloping horses of the incoming