llows along the south fork of the Malheur, Drake reined in his horse
with a jerk.

"Now isn't that too bad!" he exclaimed.

"It is all very bad," said Bolles, sorry to hear the boy's tone of
disappointment.

"I didn't think they'd fool me again," continued Drake, jumping down.

"Again?" inquired the interested Bolles.

"Why, they've gone home!" said the boy, in disgust.

"I was hoping so," said the school-master.

"Hoping? Why, it's sad, Bolles. Four miles farther and I'd have had them
lost."

"Oh!" said Bolles.

"I wanted them to keep after us," complained Drake. "Soon as we had a
good lead I coaxed them. Coaxed them along on purpose by a trail they
knew, and four miles from here I'd have swung south into the mountains
they don't know. There they'd have been good and far from home in the
snow without supper, like you and me, Bolles. But after all my trouble
they've gone back snug to that fireside. Well, let us be as cosey as we
can."

He built a bright fire, and he whistled as he kicked the snow from his
boots, busying over the horses and the blankets. "Take a rest," he said
to Bolles. "One man's enough to do the work. Be with you soon to share
our little cottage." Presently Bolles heard him reciting confidentially
to his horse, "Twas the night after Christmas, and all in the
house--only we are not all in the house!" He slapped the belly of his
horse Tyee, who gambolled away to the limit of his picket-rope.

"Appreciating the moon, Bolles?" said he, returning at length to the
fire. "What are you so gazeful about, father?"

"This is all my own doing," lamented the school-master.

"What, the moon is?"

"It has just come over me," Bolles continued. "It was before you got in
the stage at Nampa. I was talking. I told Uncle Pasco that I was glad no
whiskey was to be allowed on the ranch. It all comes from my folly!"

"Why, you hungry old New England conscience!" cried the boy, clapping
him on the shoulder. "How in the world could you foresee the crookedness
of that hoary Beelzebub?"

"That's all very well," said Bolles, miserably. "You would never have
mentioned it yourself to him."

"You and I, Bolles, are different. I was raised on miscellaneous
wickedness. A look at my insides would be liable to make you say your
prayers."

The school-master smiled. "If I said any prayers," he replied, "you
would be in them."

Drake looked moodily at the fire. "The Lord helps those who help
themselves," said he.