"That's it," he mused. "That's it exactly. It would have to be his
last, unless he is figuring on a longer journey than he has ever taken
before."

He crossed and leaned over the thin and motionless form of his friend.
He laid one hand gently upon the sleeping man's shoulder.

"He did that for me once, Joe," he spoke quietly. "He dropped his hand
on my shoulder like that, and I never forgot the weight of it. You watch
him, Joe--watch him closely for a while, because--because, you see, a man
does stray along once in so often who's so badly bewildered and trail
weary, so tired of trying and--and hurt in soul, that the thought of such
a journey as you speak of begins to seem the shortest route after all to
an end of thoughts which even alcohol can't wipe out. You take care of
him, and if he wakes before I get back, explain to him a little just how
he came here, and thank him a lot for what he did. Ask him to wait until
I come back from Morrison, will you?"

For a moment Joe just stood and blinked, dumfounded.

"Huh!" he blurted at last. "Huh! So that's what you been hintin' at all
the time, is it? I didn't just get you right until now. But, do you
know, it did seem to me once or twice while we were working over
him--once or twice when the goin' was pretty bad--that his spirit wasn't
heaving real hearty into the traces. And, say, ain't that a poor idea
for a guy to get into his head? Now ain't it?" And then, as the purport
of the rest of Steve's words struck home: "Do you mean you are going to
Morrison to have a----"

Steve recrossed to the door and began to unfasten the feed-bag from
Ragtime's nose.

"And now about this ornithological problem, Joe," he cut in with a
blandness that outdid Joe's best effort. "About owls in particular!
Your research work was illuminating; in view of its casual nature it was
unbelievably helpful. But personally I feel that a thorough sifting of
the matter requires slightly different methods. One should endeavor to
get at the thing in its embryonic state, as--as it were. Don't you think
so? If one could locate the place of incubation, the--er--nest from
which these night birds of yours first stretched their wings, it might
prove really worth while--no? And--and at the same time I'll just return
Miss Allison's horse to her, too, this morning."

He leaned over to lengthen a stirrup; stopped again to light his pipe.

"Watch things," he called, as he swung to the saddl