ago,
we're going to eat ourselves plumb to death; a better meal I never
laid away inside me than the one I got at the Park Hotel when I was up
there last time. Come on over to the hotel and eat; their chuck isn't
the best in the world, but it could be a lot worse and still beat
Happy Jack to a jelly."

PART TWO

The whole Happy Family--barring Happy Jack, who was sulking in camp
because of certain things which had been said of his cooking and which
he had overheard--clanked spurs impatiently upon the platform and
waited for the arrival of the train from the West. When at last it
snorted into town and nosed its way up to the platform they bunched
instinctively and gazed eagerly at the steps which led down from the
smoker.

A slim little man in blue serge, a man with the complexion of a strip
of rawhide and the mustache of a third-rate orchestra leader, felt his
way gingerly down by the light of the brakeman's lantern, hesitated
and then came questioningly toward them, carrying with some difficulty
a bulky suitcase.

"It's him, all right," muttered Pink while they waited.

The little man stopped apologetically before the group, indistinct in
the faint light from the office window. Already the train was sliding
away into the dark. "Pardon," he apologized. "I am looking for the U
fich flies."

"This is it," Weary assured him gravely. "We'll take yuh right on out
to camp. Pretty dark, isn't it? Let me take your grip--I know the way
better than you do." Weary was not in the habit of making himself a
porter for any man's accommodation, but the way back to where they had
left the horses was dark, and the new cook was very small and slight.
They filed silently back to Rusty Brown's place, invited the cook in
for a drink and were refused with soft-voiced regret and the gracious
assurance that he would wait outside for them.

Weary it was, and Pink to bear him company, who piloted the stranger
out to camp and showed him where he might sleep in Patsy's bed. Patsy
had left town, the Happy Family had been informed, with the
declaration often repeated that he was "neffer cooming back alreatty."
He had even left behind him his bed and his clothes rather than meet
again any member of the Flying U outfit.

"We'd like breakfast somewhere near sunrise," Weary told the cook at
parting. "Soon as the store opens in the morning, we'll drive in and
you can stock up the wagon; we're pretty near down to cases, judging
from the me