l over the world seemed poor in
comparison with all the glories Jardin had told and hinted at.

Poor Frank, did not know it, but slowly, ever so slowly, he was making
the wrong turn; the turn that led away from the right.

"The trouble with you, Bill," he said, as they loitered over their
ice-cream at luncheon, "the trouble is that you are narrow."

Bill groaned. "There you go on Jardin again, I do believe," he said.
"All right; I will tell you what _I_ will do. I will really try to like
him, and if he comes around where we are I will be as decent to him as I
can be. Perhaps he has a lot of good in him, as you say. _I_ don't want
to be unjust."

Frank looked pleased. "I think that is the square thing for you to do,"
he said. "Jardin may turn out to be a good scout in every way. Perhaps
he saw the Swallow and was so impressed with it that he wanted to make a
big impression to get even. You can't tell the first time you see
anybody what they will be like when you get to know them well."

"Well, I gathered that Jardin was here with his father on some oil
business, and probably we won't see him anyhow after this afternoon. He
won't be apt to come to the Post. Anyway, let's not spoil our whole
afternoon. I want to see some more of those Indians, and I would like to
go to that pawnshop without someone tagging along who can buy the place
out. I want to buy a little bead bag I saw in the window if it does not
cost too much. I think mother would like it to carry with a blue dress
of hers.

"Say, you are just like a girl, aren't you?" exclaimed Frank. "I would
never know what sort of a dress my mother had on, and she would _never_
get a bag if she depended on _my_ getting it for her."

"I suppose there is a difference in folks," said Bill. "There was a man
visiting my uncle back home one time. He broke his leg while he was with
us, and mother helped take care of him and amuse him, and say, he could
embroider and crochet! He taught mother a lot of stitches."

"A regular sissy!" sneered Frank.

"I thought so," said Bill; laughing at the recollection. "One night when
he felt sort of bad I rubbed his back, and his shoulders were all
covered with scars. Well, what do you think? A tiger did it. A Royal
Bengal tiger like you read about! And I found out that he had hunted
every kind of big game there is, and the fiercer, the better. He simply
didn't care _what_ he did in the way of hunting. Oh, my; that was a snap
for me! When