uarded. They were to form an invisible escort,
clearing his road for him and making his journey safe. So they swung
into the saddle and rode hot-foot on the trail of their unconscious
charge.

For the most part they rode silently. Already the journey had been
long and tiresomely uneventful, and Sunny Oak particularly reveled in
an impotent peevishness which held him intensely sulky. The widower,
too, was feeling anything but amiable. What with his recent futile
work on a claim which was the ridicule of the camp, and now the
discomfort of a dreary journey, his feelings towards Wild Bill were
none too cordial. Perhaps Toby was the most cheerful of the three. The
matters of the Trust had been a pleasant break in the daily routine of
dispossessing himself of remittances from his friends in the East. And
the unusual effort made him feel good.

They had reached the crown of the hill bordering the valley, where the
trail debouched upon the prairie beyond, and the effort of easing his
horse, as the struggling beast clawed its way up the shelving slope,
at last set loose the tide of the loafer's ill-temper. He suddenly
turned upon his companions, his angry face dirty and sweating.

"Say," he cried, "of all the blamed fules I'd say we three was the
craziest ever pupped."

Sandy turned inquiring, contemptuous eyes in his direction. He always
adopted a defensive attitude when Sunny opened out. Toby only grinned
and waited for what was to come.

"Meanin'?" inquired Sandy in his coldest manner.

"Meanin'? Gee! it don't need a mule's intellec' to get my meanin',"
said the loafer witheringly. "Wot, in the name o' glory, would I mean
but this doggone ride we're takin'? Say, here's us three muttons
chasin' glory on the tail o' two soppy lambs that ain't got savvee
enough between 'em to guess the north end of a hoss when he's goin'
south. An', wot's more, we're doin' it like a lot o' cluckin' hens
chasin' a brood o' fule chicks. I tell you it jest makes me sick. An'
ef I don't git six weeks' rest straight on end after this is thro'
I'll be gettin' plumb 'bug,' or--or the colic, or suthin' ornery bum.
I've done. Sufferin' Creek ain't no place fer a peace-lovin' feller
like me, whose doin' all he knows to git thro' life easy an' without
breakin' up a natterally delicate constitootion. I'm done. I quit."

Sandy's face was a study in sneers. Not because he did not agree with
the sentiments, but Sunny always irritated him. But Toby onl