for the journey, as Jerry had declared a woman would do. Bud sent a
lingering glance around the room and closed the door. Hope was still
with him, but it was darkened now with doubts.

In the kitchen again he hesitated, wanting his guitar and mandolin and
yet aware of the foolishness of burdening himself with them now. Food
was a different matter, however. Dave owed him for more than three weeks
of hard work in the hayfield, so Bud collected from the pantry as much
as he could carry, and left the house like a burglar.

Pop was fiddling with the mower that stood in front of the machine shed,
plainly waiting for whatever night transpire. And since the bunk-house
door was in plain view and not so far away as Bud wished it, he went
boldly over to the old man, carrying his plunder on his shoulder.

"Dave owes me for work, Pop, so I took what grub I needed," he explained
with elaborate candor. "I'll show you what I've got, so you'll know I'm
not taking anything that I've no right to." He set down the sack,
opened it and looked up into what appeared to be the largest-muzzled
six-shooter he had ever seen in his life. Sheer astonishment held him
there gaping, half stooped over the sack.

"No ye don't, young feller!" Pop snarled vindictively. "Yuh think
I'd let a horse thief git off 'n this ranch whilst I'm able to pull a
trigger? You fork her that money you got on ye, first thing yuh do! it's
mine by rights--I told yuh I'd help ye to win money off 'n the valley
crowd, and I done it. An' what does you do? Never pay a mite of
attention to me after I'd give ye all the inside workin's of the
game--never offer to give me my share--no, by Christmas, you go steal a
horse of my son's and hide him out somewheres, and go lose mighty near
all I helped yuh win, playin' poker! Think I'm goin' to stand for that?
Think two hundred dollars is goin' to even things up when I helped ye to
win a fortune? Hand over that fifty you got on yuh!"

Very meekly, his face blank, Bud reached into his pocket and got the
money. Without a word he pulled two or three dollars in silver from his
trousers pockets and added that to the lot. "Now what?" he wanted to
know.

"Now You'll wait till Dave gits here to hang yuh fer horse-stealing!"
shrilled Pop. "Jerry! Oh, Jerry! Where be yuh? I got 'im, by
Christmas--I got the horse thief--caught him carryin good grub right
outa the house!"

"Look out, Jerry!" called Bud, glancing quickly toward the bunk-house.