e about half-a-dozen plates left."

"I may not look as tidy to-morrow morning as I do now," remarked one
puncher suggestively. "Too bad yuh can't take pictures at night as well as
in the daytime."

"I can," announced Skidmore, quite complacently.

"Well, didn't yuh just tell me," demanded an irate cowboy who vainly
undertook to grasp the science of photography, "that the light actin' on
the plate made the pitcher?"

"Yes."

"Well, how in the road to hell can yuh take 'em when it's dark?"

"He rents a star, yuh fool!" volunteered another.

"I make my own light," explained Skidmore.

"How? With a wood-fire?" asked the curious puncher.

"No. Shall I show yuh?"

"Yes."

The reply came in a chorus, for the arrival of this man with his strange
apparatus had created a stir among his hosts that one cannot conceive in
these days of perfect pictures. The cowpunchers were not worrying about
attack, for they had outposts on duty who could warn them of the advance
of the enemy in plenty of time. The amusement of the camera was a fine
thing with which to pass the lagging hours.

"All right," said Skidmore. "By George," he cried, "I've just the idea! My
plates are low, and I'll take a picture of the whole outfit together."

"What! Get seventy men on the same thing that'll only hold one?" cried
another puncher, furious that these wonders eluded him. "If yuh're foolin'
with me, son, I'll shoot yer contraption into a thousand pieces."

"Easiest thing in the world," said the photographer carelessly. "Only I'll
have to ask yuh to move away from the fire; that'll spoil the plate. I
think over here is a good place." He led the way to a spot directly in
front of the horse corral.

Then he caused the lowest row to sit on the ground, the one behind it
kneel, and the last stand up, and after peering through his camera made
them close up tightly so that all could get into the picture. By the glow
from the camp-fire it was a wonderful scene. The light showed broad hats,
knotted neckerchiefs, and weather-beaten, grinning faces. It glanced dully
from holsters and brightly from guns and buckles.

On a piece of board Skidmore carefully arranged his flashlight powder and
took the cap off the lens. Then he ran to the fire and picked up a
burning splinter, telling them all to watch it.

"Steady, now!" he commanded. "All quiet."

He thrust the lighted spill into the powder, and there was a blinding
flash, accompanied by a hollow roar