want
to ride around at present; I ain't worrying about the rest, right now.
He's a smooth old devil, and he'll do yuh sure."

To this Mr. Dill made no reply whatever. He fumbled the fastenings on
his coon-skin coat, tried to pull his cap lower and looked altogether
unhappy. And Charming Billy, not at ail sure that his advice would be
taken or his warning heeded, stuck the spurs into his horse and set a
faster pace reflecting gloomily upon the trials of being confidential
adviser to one who, in a perfectly mild and good-mannered fashion,
goes right along doing pretty much as he pleases.

It made him think, somehow, of Miss Bridger and the way she had forced
him to take his gun with him when he had meant to leave it. She was
like Dill in that respect: nice and good-natured and smiling--only
Dill smiled but seldom--and yet always managing to make you give up
your own wishes. He wished vaguely that the wanderings of Dill would
bring them back to the Double-Crank country, instead of leading them
always farther afield. He did not, however, admit openly to himself
that he wanted to see Miss Bridger again; yet he did permit himself
to wonder if she ever played coon-can with any one else, or if she had
already forgotten the game. Probably she had, and--well, a good many
other things that he remembered quite distinctly.

Later, when they had reached town, were warmed and fed and when even
Billy was thinking seriously of sleep, Dill came over and sat down
beside him solemnly, folded his bony hands upon knees quite as bony,
regarded pensively the generously formed foot dangling some distance
before him and smiled his puckered smile.

"I have been wondering, William, if you had not some plan of your own
concerning this cattle-raising business, which you think is better
than mine but which you hesitate to express. If you have, I hope you
will feel quite free to--er--lay it before the head of the firm. It
may interest you to know that I have, as you would put it, 'failed to
connect' with Mr. Robinson. So, if you have any ideas--"

"Oh, I'm burning up with 'em," Charming Billy retorted in a way he
meant to be sarcastic, but which Mr. Dill took quite seriously.

"Then I hope you won't hesitate--"

"Now look here, Dilly," expostulated he, between puffs. "Recollect,
it's _your_ money that's going to feed the birds--and it's your
privilege to throw it out to suit yourself. Uh course, I might
day-dream about the way I'd start into