"That's what we've got to find out," said Bud, who, perhaps from longer
association with western conditions, had manifested no inclination to
draw his gun. "Guess he'll wait for us," he added, as he slid from the
saddle, having ridden close to the prostrate form.

But, even as Bud spoke, and as Dick and Nort dismounted, the stranger
rose to a sitting position, rubbed his hand across his forehead, tried
to smile at the boys and then, in what would have been a jolly voice
under other circumstances said:

"I'm supposed to ask 'Where am I?' I believe, but we'll pass that up,
and I'll substitute 'what time is it?' Just as a variation you know,"
and he actually chuckled. "Not that it matters," he added, as he saw
Bud fishing out a sturdy silver watch--the only kind it is safe to
carry on a cattle range. "Doesn't matter in the least."

"Then why--" began Nort. But the stranger stopped him with a friendly
gesture.

"Don't ask me that!" he begged, smiling broadly, as he scrambled to his
feet, thereby disclosing the fact that he was even more ragged as to
garments than at first appeared when he was lying down. "Don't ask me
that. The question has been fired at me ever since I was old enough to
decide whether I'd have butter on my bread or take it in the natural
state. It was 'why did I do this'--'why didn't I do that' until, in
very desperation I gave up trying to answer. I do now. I don't know
why I ask the time. I really don't want to know. There are other
questions more to the point. Don't trouble to answer. And please
don't ask me 'why' this, that--or anything. Frankly I don't know, and
I care less. I am here. Where I'll be to-morrow no one knows, and no
one cares. It is my philosophy--the philosophy of a rolling stone. I
assure you, gentlemen--"

This time it was Bud who interrupted. There was a look on the face and
in the eyes of the young ranchman that his cousins could well
interpret. It meant that fooling, nonsense or an evasion of the issue
was at an end.

"Look here, stranger," said Bud, and, though his voice was stern it was
not unfriendly. "Maybe you are a tenderfoot, but you don't look it,
and I reckon you've been around here long enough to assimilate the fact
that when a stranger is found among other men's horses that stranger is
due to make an explanation."

"My boy, you are right!" laughed the ragged man. "Absolutely and
tetotally right! Of course you recognize the fact that I am