t Bo's inference to
that last audacious epithet he had boldly called out as the train was
leaving Las Vegas. She also sensed something of the disaster in store
for Mr. Carmichael. Just then the embarrassed young man was saved by
Dale's call to the girls to come to breakfast.

That meal, the last for Helen in Paradise Park, gave rise to a strange
and inexplicable restraint. She had little to say. Bo was in the highest
spirits, teasing the pets, joking with her uncle and Roy, and even
poking fun at Dale. The hunter seemed somewhat somber. Roy was his usual
dry, genial self. And Auchincloss, who sat near by, was an interested
spectator. When Tom put in an appearance, lounging with his feline grace
into the camp, as if he knew he was a privileged pet, the rancher could
scarcely contain himself.

"Dale, it's thet damn cougar!" he ejaculated.

"Sure, that's Tom."

"He ought to be corralled or chained. I've no use for cougars,"
protested Al.

"Tom is as tame an' safe as a kitten."

"A-huh! Wal, you tell thet to the girls if you like. But not me! I'm an
old hoss, I am."

"Uncle Al, Tom sleeps curled up at the foot of my bed," said Bo.

"Aw--what?"

"Honest Injun," she responded. "Well, isn't it so?"

Helen smilingly nodded her corroboration. Then Bo called Tom to her and
made him lie with his head on his stretched paws, right beside her, and
beg for bits to eat.

"Wal! I'd never have believed thet!" exclaimed Al, shaking his big head.
"Dale, it's one on me. I've had them big cats foller me on the trails,
through the woods, moonlight an' dark. An' I've heard 'em let out thet
awful cry. They ain't any wild sound on earth thet can beat a cougar's.
Does this Tom ever let out one of them wails?"

"Sometimes at night," replied Dale.

"Wal, excuse me. Hope you don't fetch the yaller rascal down to Pine."

"I won't."

"What'll you do with this menagerie?"

Dale regarded the rancher attentively. "Reckon, Al, I'll take care of
them."

"But you're goin' down to my ranch."

"What for?"

Al scratched his head and gazed perplexedly at the hunter. "Wal, ain't
it customary to visit friends?"

"Thanks, Al. Next time I ride down Pine way--in the spring,
perhaps--I'll run over an' see how you are."

"Spring!" ejaculated Auchincloss. Then he shook his head sadly and a
far-away look filmed his eyes. "Reckon you'd call some late."

"Al, you'll get well now. These, girls--now--they'll cure you. Reckon I
never saw you lo