rs," covered with old, weather-beaten canvas,
creaking along on wheels on which mud had long taken the place of paint,
and drawn by mules!

And the only things to indicate their character were letters painted on
the old canvas sides, where they drooped between the wooden arches that
supported them; letters which read: "The Mildini Troupe. Pride of
the West." And that was enough. For everybody in that part of
Montana knew the Mildinis. They came once a year--if nothing happened to
prevent.

There were three in the company--Mr. Mildini, who was short and fat, and
had a twinkle in his eye, and had been born Murphy; Mrs. Mildini, who
was slim and sharp-featured, and whose eyes were bright, without any
twinkle in them; and Signor Antolini, who was of medium height and
rather thin, and had a nose like a hawk, and had been born on Mulberry
Street, in New York City. Two thirds of this troupe remained the same,
year after year, but sometimes Signor Antolini was Signor Somebody Else.

This doesn't seem to offer much chance for entertainment, does it? To
Injun it was a wonderful troupe. To Whitey, who had been to all sorts of
entertainments in the East, it was a novelty. Perhaps it would be bad
enough to be good. Anyway, it was a show. Thoughts of revenge against
Bill Jordan could be abandoned for the time being. They would have to
wait. Meanwhile, Injun and Whitey would follow the show.

Mr. Mildini, who drove the first wagon, was very friendly, and smoked a
pipe. Signor Antolini, who drove the second wagon, was also friendly,
and smoked cigarettes. Mrs. Mildini, who slept in the first wagon,
expressed no feelings at all. That wagon contained the trunks and
chattels of Mildini and wife, and in it they made their home. The other
wagon held the instruments and properties of the show, the cooking
utensils, and the bed of Signor Antolini. It was all very simple, and
very fascinating, when you thought of it, to be traveling around the
country in the sunshine, pausing at different places to entertain
admiring audiences.

Where were they from? From Jimtown, where they had showed the night
before. And where bound? To the Hanley Ranch, a big wheat ranch, about
twenty miles east. It was threshing-time there, and there would be
plenty of men to make an audience. Mr. Mildini meant plenty from his
point of view. A settlement of five houses looked good to him.

Oh, yes, Whitey knew the Hanley Ranch. It was fourteen miles west of the
Bar