Jeff gazed, the reek
melted away. The young man told himself that he was alone in the brush
foothills, with a lame horse, and a body (his own) so bruised and
battered that it seemed to belong to somebody else.

"Hello!" said a voice.

Jeff stared into the chaparral. Wild lilac and big sage bushes,
flowering lupins and gilias, bordered the road, for spring was abroad
in San Lorenzo county. A boy slipped through the lilacs.

"Jee-whiz!" said the boy. "You've hurt yourself."

"That's right," Jeff replied.

"How did it happen?"

"The plug crossed his feet in the dip yonder, and rolled plum over me.
Say--do you want to earn an honest dollar?"

The adjective was emphasised, for none knew better than Jeff that the
foothills harboured queer folk. The boy nodded.

"You must get a buggy, sonny."

"A buggy? Anything else? As if buggies grew in the brush-hills!"

Just then Jeff's sanguine complexion turned grey, and his eyes seemed
to slip back into his head. The boy perceived a bulging pocket, out of
which he whipped a flask. Jeff took a long drink; then he gasped out:
"Thunder! you was smart to find that flask. Ah-h-h!"

"You're in a real bad fix," said the boy.

"I _am_ in bad shape," Jeff admitted. "If I'd known I was going
to lose the use o' myself like this, I wouldn't ha' been so doggoned
keen about my friend leavin' me."

"Your friend must be in a partic'lar hurry."

"He was that," Jeff murmured. A queer buzzing in his ears and an
overpowering feeling of giddiness made him close his eyes. When he
opened them, the boy had disappeared. Jeff saw that his horse had been
tied up in the shade of a scrub-oak.

"That boy seems to have some sense," he reflected. "This is a knock-
out, sure."

Again he closed his eyes. A blue jay began to chatter; and when he had
finished his screed, a cock-quail challenged the silence. Very soon
the wilderness was uttering all its familiar sounds. Jeff, lying flat
on his back, could hear the rabbits scurrying through the chaparral.
After an interminable delay his ears caught the crackle of dry twigs
snapped beneath a human foot.

"Feelin' lonesome?"

"I'm mighty glad to see you again," Jeff admitted. "Ah, water! That's
a sight better'n whisky."

He drank thirstily, for the sun was high in the heavens, and the road
as hot as an oven.

"I reckoned you'd come back," Jeff continued.

"Why?"

"To earn that dollar." He eyed the lad's somewhat ragged overalls.
"Say--what do t