rse came curvin'
up like a boomerang.

"'Gulf country,' said Dave.

"'That was a storm, Dave,' said I.

"'My oath!' says Dave.

"'Get caught in it?'

"'Yes.'

"'Got to shelter?'

"'No.'

"'But you're as dry's a bone, Dave!'

"Dave grinned. '------and------and------the--------!' he yelled.

"He said that to the horse as it boomeranged off again and broke away
through the scrub. I waited; but he didn't come back, and I reckoned
he'd got so far away before he could pull up that he didn't think it
worth while comin' back; so I went on. By-and-bye I got thinkin'. Dave
was as dry as a bone, and I knowed that he hadn't had time to get to
shelter, for there wasn't a shed within twelve miles. He wasn't only
dry, but his coat was creased and dusty too--same as if he'd been
sleepin' in a holler log; and when I come to think of it, his face
seemed thinner and whiter than it used ter, and so did his hands and
wrists, which always stuck a long way out of his coat-sleeves; and there
was blood on his face--but I thought he'd got scratched with a twig.
(Dave used to wear a coat three or four sizes too small for him, with
sleeves that didn't come much below his elbows and a tail that scarcely
reached his waist behind.) And his hair seemed dark and lank, instead
of bein' sandy and stickin' out like an old fibre brush, as it used
ter. And then I thought his voice sounded different, too. And, when
I enquired next day, there was no one heard of Dave, and the chaps
reckoned I must have been drunk, or seen his ghost.

"It didn't seem all right at all--it worried me a lot. I couldn't make
out how Dave kept dry; and the horse and saddle and saddle-cloth was
wet. I told the chaps how he talked to me and what he said, and how he
swore at the horse; but they only said it was Dave's ghost and nobody
else's. I told 'em about him bein' dry as a bone after gettin' caught in
that storm; but they only laughed and said it was a dry place where Dave
went to. I talked and argued about it until the chaps began to tap their
foreheads and wink--then I left off talking. But I didn't leave off
thinkin'--I always hated a mystery. Even Dave's father told me that Dave
couldn't be alive or else his ghost wouldn't be round--he said he knew
Dave better than that. One or two fellers did turn up afterwards that
had seen Dave about the time that I did--and then the chaps said they
was sure that Dave was dead.

"But one fine day, as a lot of us chaps was