ompleted by Jake significantly
slapping his pocket.

"A goodish lot. But come, sit down and out wi' the news. Something
must be wrong."

"Wall, I guess that somethin' _is_ wrong. Everything's wrong, as far as
I can see. The Redskins are up, an' the troops are out, an' so it
seemed o' no use our goin' to bust up the ranch of Roarin' Bull, seein'
that the red devils are likely to be there before us. So we came back
here, an' I'm glad you've got suthin' in the pot, for we're about as
empty as kettledrums."

"Humph!" ejaculated Buck, "didn't I tell you not to trouble Roarin'
Bull--that he and his boys could lick you if you had been twenty instead
of ten. But how came ye to hear o' this cock-and-bull story about the
Redskins?"

"We got it from Hunky Ben, an' he's not the boy to go spreadin' false
reports."

Charlie Brooke ventured at this point to open his eye-lids the smallest
possible bit, so that any one looking at him would have failed to
observe any motion in them. The little slit however, admitted the whole
scene to the retina, and he perceived that ten of the most
cut-throat-looking men conceivable were seated in a semicircle in the
act of receiving portions from the big pot into tin plates. Most of
them were clothed in hunters' leathern costume, wore long boots with
spurs, and were more or less bronzed and bearded.

Buck Tom, _alias_ Ralph Ritson, although as tall and strong as any of
them, seemed a being of quite angelic gentleness beside them. Yet Buck
was their acknowledged chief. No doubt it was due to the superiority of
mind over matter, for those out-laws were grossly material and
matter-of-fact!

"There must be some truth in the report if Hunky Ben carried it," said
Buck, looking up quickly, "but I left Ben sitting quietly in David's
store not many hours ago."

"No doubt that's true, Captain," said Jake, as he ladled the soup into
his capacious mouth; "nevertheless we met Hunky Ben on the pine-river
prairie scourin' over the turf like all possessed on Black Polly. We
stopped him of course an' asked the news."

"`News!' cried he, `why, the Redskins have dug up the hatchet an' riz
like one man. They've clar'd out Yellow Bluff, an' are pourin' like
Niagara down upon Rasper's Creek. It's said that they'll visit Roarin'
Bull's ranch to-morrow. No time for more talk, boys. Oratin' ain't in
my line. I'm off to Quester Creek to rouse up the troops.' Wi' that
Hunky wheeled round an' went o