he hated
water.

"The next feller on th' programmy was called 'Sure Thing' Jones. You c'n
imagine why he was called that. He wouldn't even risk bein' honest.
Well, Sure Thing watches perceedin's with a good deal of interest, an'
he sees Mike disappear 'round a bend of them rapids, his arms an' legs
wavin' somewhat wild.

"Then Sure Thing goes up to Lem, an' he sez, 'Lem, have you got a
braided linen rope in the outfit?'

"'Sure,' says Lem. 'Why?'

"'It's my turn next, an' I wish you'd use it on me,' says Sure Thing.
'Ye see what happened t' Mike, an' I don't want t' take no chances. You
know I can't swim.'"

"Just the same," said Bill Jordan, determined to have the last word,
"with all your advertisin' for braided linen ropes, I'll take old maguey
for mine, swimmin' or no swimmin'."

In the midst of the laugh which had followed Buck's grim tale, Sitting
Bull, who had been lying near Whitey, rose to a sitting posture, his
cave-like mouth open wide and raised at the corners, his eyes twinkling.

"See Bull!" Bill Jordan cried delightedly. "He's laughin' at Buck's
story yet. He's sure got a sense o' humor, that dog. He's just about
human."

Bull's expression raised another laugh. All the men liked him, but Bill
was his especial admirer, and loved to dwell on Bull's wonderful
intelligence and tell stories about it.

"Me for bed," said Jim Walker. "After that jamboree las' night I feel's
though I c'd sleep a month."

"Wait a minute till I tell you 'bout me havin' Bull down t' th' Junction
las' week, an' him chasin' th' fox," Bill said.

"Tell nothin'," Jim answered. "Me for th' hay."

"Aw, g'wan," protested Bill. "'Twon't take a minute, an' you got all
'ternity t' sleep in, as the poet says."

"An' I c'n use it," Jim yawned; "but cut loose, an' make it short."

"Well," Bill began, "las' week Thursday I was goin' down t' th' Junction
for feed, an' I takes Bull along. You know how he likes t' ride in a
wagon? 'S almost human. Why, that there animal--"

"Here, cut out them side comments," commanded Jim. "We know how smart
that dog is, without your tellin' us any further. Get down t' bed rock!"

"Well," Bill continued, "when we gets t' th' store, an' Al Strong's
nigger's loadin' th' feed in th' wagon, I allows t' take Bull for a
little stroll 'round, so's he c'n stretch his legs. So I ties a halter
t' his collar an' starts out. I isn't exactly leadin' Bull, he's sort o'
leadin' me, for you all know how stron