dent sobered the table-full, and silence fell once more, until
McArthur, feeling that an effort toward conversation was a duty he owed
his hostess, cleared his throat and inquired pleasantly:

"Have any fragments ever been found in that red formation which I observed
to the left of us, which would indicate that this vicinity was once the
home of the mammoth dinosaur?"

Too late he realized that the question was ill-advised. As might be
expected, it was Tubbs who broke the awkward silence.

"Didn't look to me, as I rid along, that it ever were the home of
anybuddy. A homestid's no good if you can't git water on it."

McArthur hesitated, then explained: "The dinosaur was a prehistoric
reptile," adding modestly, "I once had the pleasure of helping to restore
an armored dinosaur."

"If ever I gits a rope on one of them things, I'll box him up and ship him
on to you," said Tubbs generously. Then he inquired as an afterthought:
"Would he snap or chaw me up a-tall?"

"What's a prehysteric reptile?" interrupted Susie.

"This particular reptile was a big snake, with feet, that lived here when
this country was a marsh," McArthur explained simply, for Susie's
benefit.

The guests exchanged incredulous glances, but it was Meeteetse Ed who
laughed explosively and said:

"Why, Mister, they ain't been a sixteenth of an inch of standin' water on
this hull reserve in twenty year."

"Better haul in your horns, feller, when you're talkin' to a real prairie
man." Smith's contemptuous tone nettled McArthur, but Susie retorted for
him.

"Feller," mocked Susie, "looks like you're mixed. You mean when he's
talkin' to a Yellow-back. No real prairie man packs a chip on his shoulder
all the time. That buttermilk you was raised on back there in Missoury has
soured you some."

Again an angry flush betrayed Smith's feeling.

"A Yellow-back," Susie explained with gusto in response to McArthur's
puzzled look, "is one of these ducks that reads books with
buckskin-colored covers, until he gets to thinkin' that he's a Bad Man
himself. This here country is all tunnelled over with the graves of
Yellow-backs what couldn't make their bluffs stick; fellers that just knew
enough to start rows and couldn't see 'em through."

"Generally," said Smith evenly, as he stared unblinkingly into Susie's
eyes, "when I starts rows, I sees 'em through."

"And any time," Susie answered, staring back at him, "that you start a row
on _this_ ranch, you've _g