heap of dog. Jed says the red-headed girl, the middle one, married
some fellow, and they live with the old folks. He says the other girls
treated him nicely, but the old lady, she has got it bad. He says
that she just languishes on a sofa, cuts into the conversation now and
then, and simply swells up. She don't let the old man come into the
parlor at all. Jed says that when the girls were describing their trip
through Europe, one of them happened to mention Rome, when the old
lady interrupted: 'Rome? Rome? Let me see, I've forgotten, girls.
Where is Rome?'

"'Don't you remember when we were in Italy,' said one of the girls,
trying to refresh her memory.

"'Oh, yes, now I remember; that's where I bought you girls such nice
long red stockings.'

"The girls suddenly remembered some duty about the house that required
their immediate attention, and Jed says that he looked out of the
window."

"So you think I've lost my number, do you?" commented Edwards, as he
lay on his back and fondly patted a comfortable stomach.

"Well, possibly I have, but it's some consolation to remember that
that very good woman that you're slandering used to give me the glad
hand and cut the pie large when I called. I may be out of the game,
but I'd take a chance yet if I were present; that's what!"

They were singing over at one of the wagons across the draw, and
after the song ended, Bradshaw asked, "What ever became of Raneka Bill
Hunter?"

"Oh, he's drifting about," said Edwards. "Mouse here can tell you
about him. They're old college chums."

"Raneka was working for the '-BQ' people last summer," said Mouse,
"but was discharged for hanging a horse, or rather he discharged
himself. It seems that some one took a fancy to a horse in his mount.
The last man to buy into an outfit that way always gets all the bad
horses for his string. As Raneka was a new man there, the result was
that some excuse was given him to change, and they rung in a spoilt
horse on him in changing. Being new that way, he wasn't on to the
horses. The first time he tried to saddle this new horse he showed
up bad. The horse trotted up to him when the rope fell on his neck,
reared up nicely and playfully, and threw out his forefeet, stripping
the three upper buttons off Bill's vest pattern. Bill never said
a word about his intentions, but tied him to the corral fence and
saddled up his own private horse. There were several men around camp,
but they said nothing, being