e and covered with silver do dads, en maybe
they'd have 'em flung on a hoss that wasn't wuth his feed. I mind the
time when ole Lem Hawks made a right smart lot of change, a-sellin'
ole saddles that he swore come out'n the Custer massacre. Lem finally
got to believin' that he was a survivor of that carnage.

"They finally caught up with Lem however. He had sold more saddles
than Custer had men, and the old cow saddles with their big horns and
high cantles didn't look like an army saddle nohow. But Lem kept right
on a-bein' a survivor--him en about a thousand others. Hit's like
Lincoln's bodyguards--thar's been more of them folks died than Grant
had in his whole army. Yer saddle is all right, son, and we shore ort
to talk the B-line folks outa that little hoss."

"I want to take the saddle over when we go," said Davy
enthusiastically. "They could see how it fit, and that might influence
their decision. I could put it on one of the burros and ride it over."

Landy laughed uproarously. "Why son, ye wouldn't git thar by Febwary.
A burro ain't geared to ride en go places. He will foller ye right up
the side of a glacier, but he ain't mentally constructed to take the
lead. Why, if ye was on one of 'em, backward, en paddlin' him with a
clapboard, he'd back right up agin hit."

"Well, what do they keep them for? Who do they belong to, anyhow?"

"Them two a-roamin' around here, belong to ole Maddy, the ole miner
gent. He left 'em here while he went romancin' around up Ripple Creek.
He goes up thar, and has got a way out to the top. He goes in North
Park, cl'ar over to Granby and Grand Lake. He swings 'round by
Steamboat Springs and Hahns Peak, and comes a-driftin' back, mebbe
from the north. He left 'em here three months ago. He'll git 'em when
he gits 'em, en he won't lose much if he don't.

"Ole Maddy has been in the hills--so hit's told--since the days of Jim
Beck with and Bridger. Some say he was in Virginia Vale when Slade
rubbed out Jules, the Frenchman. They say too, that he knew Carson,
but that ain't so! Yit I do know that he pardnered with Will Drannon,
the boy that ole Kit raised, because I heard Maddy tell a lot about
Drannon, and later I read Drannon's book en right in the book, was ole
Maddy. Oh, he's an oldster all right. He jist projects around in the
hills, pans a little gold en rambles around by himse'f. He's not 'gold
mad,' he jist likes to roam. He's clean, don't talk much, en anybody
will keep him unti