n't forget he's got a sister with a number two foot, damned
if I don't fix yuh both a-plenty!" He settled his hat more firmly over
his curls, and eyed Rowdy anxiously from under his lashes.

Rowdy caught the action and the look from the tail of his eye, and
grinned at his horse's ears. Pink in warlike mood always made him think
of a four-year-old child playing pirate with the difference that Pink
was always in deadly earnest and would fight like a fiend.

For more reasons than one he hoped they would not meet Harry Conroy.
Jessie was still in ignorance of his real attitude toward her brother,
and Rowdy wanted nothing more than to keep her so. The trouble was that
he was quite certain to forget everything but his grievances, if ever he
came face to face with Harry. Also, Pink would always fight quicker for
his friends than for himself, and he felt very tender toward Pink. So
he hoped fervently that Harry Conroy had already ridden back whence he
came, and there would be no unpleasantness.

Four or five Cross L horses stood meekly before the Come Again Saloon,
so Rowdy and Pink added theirs to the gathering and went in. The Silent
One looked up from his place at a round table in a far corner, and
beckoned.

"We need another hand here," he said, when they went over to him. "These
gentlemen are worried because they might be taken into high society some
day, and they would be placed in a very embarrassing position through
their ignorance of bridge-whist. I have very magnanimously consented to
teach them the rudiments."

Bob Nevin looked up, and then lowered an eyelid cautiously. "He's a
liar. He offered to learn us how to play it; we bet him the drinks he
didn't savvy the game himself. Set down, Pink, and I'll have you for my
pretty pardner."

The Silent One shuffled the cards thoughtfully. "To make it seem like
bona-fide bridge," he began, "we should have everybody playing."

"Aw, the common, ordinary brand is good enough," protested Bob. "I ain't
in on any trimmings."

The Silent One smiled ever so slightly. "We should have prizes--or
favors. Is there a store in town where one could buy something
suitable?"

"They got codfish up here; I smelt it," suggested Jim Ellis. Him the
Silent One ignored.

"What do you say, boys, to a real, high society whist-party? I'll invite
the crowd, and be the hostess. And I'll serve punch--"

"Come on, fellows, and have one with me," called a strange voice near
the door.

"Meet