round Tubbs with his
picket-rope.

Ralston divided the scanty rations which Smith and Tubbs, and he and Babe,
had brought with them. He made coffee, and handed a cup to Smith first.
The latter arose and changed his seat.

"I never could eat with a corp' settin' around," he said disagreeably.

Smith's fastidiousness made Babe's jaw drop, and a piece of biscuit which
had made his cheek bulge inadvertently rolled out, but was skillfully
intercepted before it reached the ground.

"I hope you'll excuse us, Mr. Smith," said Babe, bowing as well as he
could sitting cross-legged on the ground. "I hope you'll overlook our
forgittin' the napkins and toothpicks."

When they had finished, they slung Tubbs's body into a tree, beyond the
reach of coyotes. The cattle they left to drift back to their range.
Tubbs's horse was saddled for Smith, and, with Ralston holding the lead
rope and Babe in the rear, the procession started back to the ranch.

Smith had much time to think on the homeward ride. He based his hopes upon
the Indian woman. He knew that he could conciliate her with a look. She
was resourceful, she had unlimited influence with the Indians, and she had
proven that she was careless of her own life where he was concerned. She
was a powerful ally. The situation was not so bad as it had seemed. He had
been in tighter places, he told himself, and his spirits rose as he rode.
Without the plodding cattle, they retraced their steps in half the time it
had taken them to come, and it was not much after midday when they were
sighted from the MacDonald ranch.

The Indians that Smith had missed were at the ford to meet them: Bear
Chief, Yellow Bird, Running Rabbit, and others, who were strangers to him.
They followed as Ralston and Babe rode with their prisoner up the path to
put him under guard in the bunk-house.

Susie, McArthur, and Dora were at the door of the ranch-house, and Susie
stepped out and stopped them when they would have passed.

"You can't take him there; that place is for our _friends_. There's the
harness-house below. The dogs sleep there. There'll be room for one
more."

The insult stung Smith to the quick.

"What _you_ got to say about it? Where's your mother?"

With narrowed eyes she looked for a moment into his ugly visage, then she
laid her hand upon the rope and led his horse close to the open window of
the bedroom.

"There," and she pointed to the still figure on its improvised bier.
"There's my