bath?" he inquired, with wide eyes. "You ain't givin' 'em a _hot_
bath?" he exclaimed incredulously.

A troubled look came into Scipio's pale eyes. He doubted his purpose
in face of his friends' astonishment.

"Why, yes. That's how I _was_ thinking," he said weakly. "Y'see, I
guessed it would soften the dirt quicker, and make it easy wipin' it
off."

"But ain't you scared o' them--peelin'?" inquired Sandy, refusing to
be left out of the discussion.

Scipio looked perplexed.

"Peelin'?" he said. "I--I don't think I get you."

"Why," explained Sandy readily, "peelin' their skins off 'em. You
allus sets potatoes in b'ilin' water to git their skins peeled quick.
Same with hogs. Same with most anything. I call that a fool chance to
take."

Scipio's perplexity merged into a mild smile.

"I wouldn't jest set 'em into boilin' water," he explained; "kind of
warm, with a bit o' soda."

Sunny approved.

"That sure don't sound too bad," he declared. "But wot about 'em
gettin' cold? Takin' all that dirt off sudden, y'see--"

"He's dosed 'em wi' cough cure," broke in Toby.

"Sure," agreed Sunny. "I'd fergot--Say"--he turned to the doorway and
craned towards it--"here's--here's Wild Bill coming along."

Toby promptly scrambled up from the door-sill and made way for the
Trust president. He strode into the room with a quick glance round and
a short, harsh "Howdy?" for the lesser members of his corporation. His
manner towards Scipio was no less unbending.

And, curiously enough, his coming silenced all further discussion.
Scipio had nothing to say whatever, and the others felt that here was
their leader from whom they must take their cue.

Nor was it long in coming. Scipio rose and offered his chair to the
newcomer, but the gambler promptly kicked the proffered seat aside,
and took up his position on the fuel-box. He glared into the little
man's face for a few seconds, and then opened his lips.

"Wal?" he drawled.

Scipio stirred uneasily.

"I'm real glad to see you, Bill," he managed to mumble out. "I ain't
got no rye--"

"Rye--hell!" The gambler was not a patient man, and the laws of
hospitality interested him not in the least. "Say"--he pointed at the
open Bible on the table beside Sandy--"takin' on psalm-smitin'?"

Scipio hurled himself into the breach.

"It's them regulations Sunny give me for raisin' the kids. They need a
Bible talk after their bath. I bin readin' up some."

A momentary twinkle flashed