w the dirt out behind them--as
they ran," suggested Tommy.

"If _only_ they could have had a badger they'd have beaten all records!"
we chorused.

And then finally we wiped our eyes and remembered that there used to be
a 'coon. At the same time we became conscious of a most unholy row in
the offing: the voice of Mithradates Antikamia.

"If you people want your 'coon," he was remarking in a staccato and
exasperated voice, "you'd better come and lend a hand. _I_ can't manage
him alone! The blame thing has bitten me in three places already. Of
course, I like to see people have a good time, and I hope you won't
curtail your enjoyment on my account; but if you've had _quite_ enough
of those made-in-Germany imitations, perhaps you'll just stroll over and
see what one good American-built DOG can do!"

CHAPTER XI

IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE

Uncle Jim had friends everywhere. Continually we were pulling up by one
of the tiny two-roomed shacks wherein dwelt the small settlers. The
houses were always of new boards, unpainted, perched on four-by-fours,
in the middle of bare ground, perhaps surrounded by young poplars or
cottonwoods, but more likely fully exposed to the sun. A trifling open
shed protected a battered buggy on the thills and wheels of which
perched numerous chickens. A rough corral and windmill completed the
arrangements. Near the house was usually a small patch of alfalfa.
Farther out the owner was engaged in the strenuous occupation of
brushing and breaking a virgin country.

To greet us rushed forth a half-dozen mongrel dogs, and appeared a swarm
of children, followed by the woman of the place. Uncle Jim knew them all
by name, including even the dogs. He carefully wound the reins around
the whip, leaned forward comfortably, and talked. Henry dozed; and I
listened with interest. Uncle Jim had the natural gift of popularity. By
either instinct or a wide experience he knew just what problems and
triumphs, disappointments and perplexities these people were
encountering; and he plunged promptly into the discussion of them. Also,
I was never able to make out whether Uncle Jim was a conscious or
unconscious diplomat; but certainly he knew how judiciously to make use
of the subtle principle, so well illustrated by Moliere, that it pleases
people to confer small favours. Thus occasionally he gravely "borrowed"
a trifle of axle grease, which we immediately applied, or a cup of milk,
or a piece of string to mend