his hide wet.

"When the first shock of this wore off, here was silly old Egbert, in a
weak voice, calling: 'Kitty, Kitty, Kitty! Here, Kitty! Here, Kitty!'
Then we notice brother and sister. Brother is waving his hat in the air
and yelling 'Yoicks!' and 'Gone away!' and 'Fair sport, by Jove!'--just
like some crazy man; and sister, with her chest going up and down, is
clapping her hands and yelling 'Goody! Goody! Goody!' and squealing with
helpless laughter. Mother just stood gazing at 'em in horrible silence.
Pretty soon they felt it and stopped, looking like a couple of kids that
know it's spanking time.

"'So!' says mother. That's all she said--just, 'So!'

"But she stuffed the simple word with eloquence; she left it pregnant
with meaning, as they say. Then she stalked loftily out and got on her
horse, brother and sister slinking after her. I guess I slunk, too,
though it was none of my doings. Cousin Egbert kind of sidled along,
mumbling about Kitty:

"'Kitty was quite frightened of the pets first time he seen 'em; but
someway to-day it seemed like he had lost much of his fear--seemed more
like he had wanted to play with 'em, or something.'

"Nobody listened to the doddering old wretch, but I caught brother
winking at him behind mother's back. Then we all rode off in lofty
silence, headed by mother, who never once looked back to her late host,
even if he was mad about ranching. We got up over the pass and the pack
of ruined beagles begun to straggle out of the underbrush. A good big
buck rabbit with any nerve could have put 'em all on the run again. You
could tell that. They slunk along at the tail of the parade. I dropped
out informally when it passed the place here. It seemed like something
might happen where they'd want only near members of the family present.

"I don't hear anything from Broadmoor next day; so the morning after
that I ride over to Cousin Egbert's to see if I couldn't get a better
line on the recent tragedy. He was still on his Sunday paper, having
finished an article telling that man had once been scaly, like a fish;
and was just beginning the fashion notes, with pictures showing that the
smart frock was now patterned like an awning. Old Kate was lying on a
bench in the sun, trying to lick a new puncture he'd got in his chest.

"I started right in on the old reprobate. I said it was a pretty
how-de-do if a distinguished lady amateur, trying to raise ranching to
the dignity of a sport, co