but
rattlesnakes and coyotes to keep me company? Go on!"

"I've wandered far--I've wandered wide--
I've dwelt in many a stately tower;
And now I turn me back to ride
To my own brown bird in her humble bower."

"That'll do," said Mintie. "You ain't improved much. Bill Shakespeare
can rest easy in his tomb. I've got my chores to do. 'Bout time you
was doin' yours."

Smoky Jack, refusing to budge, said jocosely, "Things air fixed up to
home. 'Twouldn't worry me any if I never got back till to-morrer."

Mintie frowned and went into the house. Smoky led his horse to the
barn with perplexity and distress writ large upon his face.

"Notice to quit," he muttered. Then he grinned pleasantly. "Reckon a
perfect gen'leman 'd take the hint and clear out. But I ain't a
perfect gen'leman. What in thunder ails the girl?"

* * * * *

It was nearly seven when Pap Ransom reached his corral. Smoky had
milked the cow and fed the pigs. In the kitchen Mintie was frying some
potatoes and stirring the big pot full of beans and bacon. From time
to time Smoky had caught a glimpse of her white apron as she whisked
in and out of the kitchen. Although a singularly modest youth, he
conceived the idea that Mintie was interested in his doings, whereas
we must admit that she was more concerned about her father. However,
when she saw Pap ascend the hill, carrying his rifle over his
shoulder, her face resumed its ordinary expression, and from that
minute she gave to the simple preparations for supper undivided
attention.

"Whar's the liver?" said Smoky, as the old man nodded to him.

"Liver?"

"Heard a shot, jest one, and made certain a good buck was on his
back."

"I never fired no shot," said Ransom slowly.

"Wal, I'm hanged! Is there another Sharp besides mine in these yere
hills?"

"I dessay. I heard one shot myself, 'bout two hours ago."

"Guess it was one o' them derned squatters."

"Curse 'em!" said Ransom. He spat upon the ground and walked into the
abode. Smoky nodded reflectively.

Supper was not a particularly cheery meal. Mintie, usually a nimble
talker, held her tongue. Ransom aired his pet grievance--the advent of
Easterners, who presumed to take up land which was supposed to belong
to, or at least go with, the old Spanish grants. Smoky and Mintie knew
well enough that the land was Uncle Sam's; but they knew also that
Ransom had run his cattle over it during