still kept faith
with their pledge to Jack in the _arroyo_. They were without guns, but
their companions were armed in defiance of the local ordinance which had
been established for Jack's protection.

"Howdy do, Leddy?" said Jack, as amiably as if there had never been
anything but the pleasantest of relations between them.

"Getting polite, eh! Where's your pretty whistle?" Leddy answered.

"I put it in storage in New York," Jack said laughing; then, with a
sudden change to seriousness: "Leddy, is it true that you and John
Prather have got the water rights to this town?"

"None of your d----d business!" Leddy rapped out. "The only business I've
got with you has been waiting for some time, and you can have it your way
out in the _arroyo_ where we had it before, right now!"

"As I said, Pete, I put the whistle in storage and I have already
apologized for the way I used it," returned Jack. "I can't accommodate
you in the _arroyo_ again. I have other things to attend to."

"Then the first time you get outside the limits of this town you will
have to play my way--a man's way!"

"I hope not, Pete!"

"Naturally you hope so, for you know I will get you, you--"

"Careful!" Jack interrupted. "You'd better leave that out until we are
both armed. Or, if you will not, why, we both have weapons that nature
gave us. Do you prefer that way?" and Jack's weight had shifted to the
ball of his foot.

Plainly this was not to Pete's taste.

"I don't want to bruise you. I mean to make a clean hole through you!"
he answered.

"That is both courteous and merciful; and you are very insistent, Leddy,"
Jack returned, and walked on.

"Just as sweet as honey, just as cool as ice, and just as sunny as
June!" whispered Bob Worther to the man next him.

Again Jack was before the opening in the Ewold hedge, with its glimpse
of the spacious living-room. The big ivory paper-cutter lay in its
accustomed place on the broad top of the Florentine table. In line with
it on the wall was a photograph of Abbey's mural in the Pennsylvania
capitol and through the open window a photograph of a Puvis de Chavannes
was visible. Evidently the Doge had already hung some of the
reproductions of masterpieces which he had brought from New York. But no
one was on the porch or in the living-room; the house was silent. As
Jack started across the cement bridge he was halted by a laugh from his
companions. He found that P.D. was taking no risks of losing his ma