ssible that unpleasant, prickly sensation which we call a "going to
sleep" of the afflicted members. When it occurred to him that he could
not do anything with his horse if he found it, he gave up looking for it
and started for the ranch, walking awkwardly, because of his bonds, the
sun shining hotly upon his brown head, because his hat had been knocked
off in the scuffle, and he could not pick it up and put it back where it
belonged.

Taking a straight course across the prairie, he struck Flying U coulee
at the point where the sheep had left it. On the way there he had
crossed their trail where they went through the fence farther along
the coulee than before, and therefore with a better chance of passing
undetected; especially since the Happy Family, believing that he was
forcing them steadily to the north, would not be watching for sheep. The
barbed wire barrier bothered him somewhat. He was compelled to lie down
and roll under the fence, in the most undignified manner, and, when he
was through, there was the problem of getting upon his feet again. But
he managed it somehow, and went on down the coulee, perspiring with the
heat and a bitter realization of his ignominy. What the Happy Family
would have to say when they saw him, even Andy Green's vivid imagination
declined to picture.

He knew by the sun that it was full noon when he came in sight of the
stable and corrals, and his soul sickened at the thought of facing that
derisive bunch of punchers, with their fiendish grins and their barbed
tongues. But he was hungry, and his arms had reached the limit of
prickly sensations and were numb to his shoulders. He shook his hair
back from his beaded forehead, cast a wary glance at the silent stables,
set his jaw, and went on up the hill to the mess-house, wishing tardily
that he had waited until they were off at work again, when he might
intimidate old Patsy into keeping quiet about his predicament.

Within the mess-house was the clatter of knives and forks plied by
hungry men, the sound of desultory talk and a savory odor of good
things to eat. The door was closed. Andy stood before it as a
guilty-conscienced child stands before its teacher; clicked his teeth
together, and, since he could not open the door, lifted his right foot
and gave it a kick to strain the hinges.

Within were exclamations of astonishment, silence and then a heavy
tread. Patsy opened the door, gasped and stood still, his eyes popping
out like a