ider that
woulda been an easy way out, before I git half through with yuh. You
walk right up and shake hands with him, and you tell him that yuh love
him to death and are his best friend and always will be! Yuh _hear_
me?"

Happy Jack heard. The Happy Family considerately moved aside and left
him a clear path, and they looked on without a word while he took
Jakie's limp hand, muttered tremulously, "Aw, fergit it, Jakie. I know
yuh didn't mean nothing by it, and I forgive yuh," and backed away
again.

Jakie wept, this time with gratitude. They got him inside a tent,
unrolled his bed and persuaded him to lie down upon it. They searched
the mess-box, found all that was left of a quart bottle of whisky,
took it outside and divided it gravely and appreciatively among
themselves. There was not much to divide.

Happy Jack took charge of the pots and pans, with the whole Happy
Family to help him hurry supper, while Jakie forgot his woes in sleep
and the sun set upon a quiet camp.

Next morning, Jakie was up and cooking breakfast at the appointed
time, and the camp felt that the incident of the evening before might
well be forgotten. The coffee was unusually good that morning, even
for Jakie. He was subdued, was Jakie, and his soft, brown eyes were
humble whenever they met the eyes of Happy Jack. His smile was
infrequent and fleeting, and his voice more deprecating than ever.
Aside from these minor changes everything seemed the same as before
the sheepmen had stopped at camp.

That afternoon, however, came an aftermath in the shape of Happy Jack
galloping wildly out to where the others were holding a herd and
"cutting out." He was due to come and help, so nobody paid any
attention to his haste, though it was his habit to take his time. He
shot recklessly by the outer fringes of the "cut" and yelled in a way
to stampede the whole bunch. "Jakie's _dying_," he shouted, wild-eyed.
"He's drunk up all the lemon extract and most uh the v'nilla before I
could stop him!"

Chip and Weary, riding in hot haste to the camp, found that it was
true as far as the drinking was concerned. Jakie was stretched upon
his back breathing unpleasantly, and beside him were two flat bottles
of half-pint size, one empty and the other very nearly so; the tent
and Jakie's breath reeked of lemon and vanilla. Chip sent back for
help.

For the second time the Flying U roundup was brought to an involuntary
pause because of its cook. There was but one