utterings.

Shoop and Corliss talked together. Then the foreman called to Hi
Wingle, asking him how the "chuck" was holding out.

"Runnin' short on flour and beans, Bud. Figured on makin' the Concho
to-morrow."

Corliss and his foreman came to the fire. "Boss says we're goin' to
bush here the rest of this week," and Corliss nodded.

"I'm expecting company on the west side," explained Corliss,

The men gazed at each other knowingly.

"All right," said Wingle. "Four sacks of flour and a sack of
frijoles'll see us through. Got enough other stuff."

"Send some one in for it," ordered Corliss. "I'm going to stay with
the outfit, from now on."

The men cheered. That was the kind of a boss to work for! No settin'
back and lettin' the men do the fightin'! Some style to Jack Corliss!
All of which was subtly expressed in their applause, although unspoken.

"To see that you boys don't get into mischief," continued Corliss,
smiling.

"Which means keepin' other folks out of mischief, eh, patron?" said a
cow-puncher.

At the word "patron" the men laughed. "They're talkin' of turnin' this
outfit into a sheep-camp," remarked another. "Ba-a-ah!" And again they
laughed.

Shoop motioned to Sundown who rose from beside the fire. "You can
saddle up, Sun."

Sundown caught up his horse and stood waiting while one of the men
saddled two pack-animals. "Tony has the keys. He'll pack the stuff
for you," said Corliss. "Keep jogging and you ought to be back here by
sunup."

The assistant cook mounted and took the lead-rope of the pack-horses.
He was not altogether pleased with the prospect of an all-night ride,
but he knew that he had been chosen as the one whose services could
most easily be dispensed with at the camp. Silently he rode away, the
empty kyacks clattering as the pack-horses trotted unwillingly behind
him. Too busy with the unaccustomed lead-rope to roll cigarettes, he
whistled, and, in turn, recited verse to keep up his spirits.

About midnight he discerned the outline of the low ranch-buildings and
urged his horse to a faster gait. As he passed a clump of cottonwoods,
his horse snorted and shied. Sundown reined him in and leaned peering
ahead. The pack-animals tugged back on the rope. Finally he coaxed
them past the cottonwoods and up to the gate. It was open, an unusual
circumstance which did not escape his notice. He drifted through the
shadows toward the corral, where he tied the horses.