went on boldly. "You was sayin' right now as my father was a
English gentleman. Well, 'tain't possible fer me to be that, seein' as
I was born here in th' United States; but I guess thar's such a thing
as a 'Merican gentleman, an' maybe you'd teach me how ter be one o'
them."

Kiddie was silent for some moments as they crossed the clearing in
front of the cabin. But at length he said--

"Rather a tall order, Rube, my lad. And it's not just like teaching
you to master a bucking broncho or to trap beaver. It's a longer
process. But at least it's an experiment worth attempting, and we'll
try it together."

"That big bay pony of yours don't feel anyways at home in the stall
where I've put him," said Rube, as they went up the veranda steps.
"I've given him a drink an' a feed, an' I've put his saddle an' bridle
in the best bedroom, where they won't take no harm. I'm sorry t' say,
sir, as thar's a scratch of a bullet on the saddle. Leather's some
torn; but I reckon mother c'n fix it up; same's she done my moccasins
when I tore 'em in the bush, trackin' a lynx."

"The saddle is of no consequence if Regent is all right," Kiddie
assured him. "Regent is the name of the bay. He's an English hunter;
doesn't know anything about the work of a prairie pony."

Rube's mother had done her best to provide a good meal for the hungry
men. They lingered at the table, all listening in wonder to what
Kiddie told them of England and of the cities of Europe and Asia. He
had been for a journey round the world, and had much to tell of his
travels in foreign lands. Gradually as he talked, he dropped the
precise English manner of speech and reverted to the homely phrases and
drawling intonation of the West. And so they ceased to think of him as
Lord St. Olave, regarding him without restraint as their familiar and
unaltered Kiddie.

Towards tea time he took out his watch. Gideon Birkenshaw noticed that
it was a very ordinary one, with a gun metal case, held by a leather
thong.

"H'm!" the Old Man muttered. "I was expectin', Kiddie, as you'd be
wearin' a real gold timepiece with a heavy gold chain. But that
article you're handlin' ain't wuth more'n my own, as I've wore for
twenty year. An' you ain't got no di'mond rings on yer fingers. But
what d'ye want ter look at the time for, anyhow?"

"I'm going to ride back as far as Fort Laramie," Kiddie answered. "My
outfit will be coming along the trail in a day or two, and I'm wa