enly on one of those flower slopes bevelled out of
the forests by snow or ice. The slant sunlight met their faces, and
the mists were lifting in a curtain, with a riffle of wind that ran
through the grasses like the ripple of waves to the touch of unseen
feet. The slope lay literally a field of gold, spikes and umbels of
gold--the gold of yellow midsummer light dyed in the asters and
sunflowers and great flowered gaillardias and golden rod, with an odor
of dried grasses or mint or cloves.

"By George," cried Wayland, "you'd not believe it! Only seven weeks;
look!"

Matthews looked but apparently did not see.

"Don't you see? It's the place where the snow slide slumped down!"

"But where in the name o' conscience is all yon snow; and where's th'
bodies, Wayland?"

"Washed down to the bottom of the Lake Behind the Peak by this time; or
you may find a great rock pile at the foot of the slope."

"A'm thinkin' they'll lie quiet till the crack o' doom, Wayland; but,
but do y' no' see a tent back in yon larches across th' slide, man,
where the thing knocked us both sprawlin'?"

"By George, yes, I do! Wonder if they're homesteading this next? It's
off the N. F."

They put their ponies to an easy lope across the slope and came on a
tepee tent with the flap laced tight and no sign of life, but a horse
lazily floundering up beside a large fallen log, an empty whiskey
bottle on the log, and a man's boot leg protruding from beneath the
tent skirt.

"A'm wonderin' if there's a leg in that boot, Wayland."

"It's the sheriff's horse," said Wayland.

"It is, is it? And this is off y'r Forest Range; an' y'r not
responsible for what A may be tempted to do?"

The old frontiersman literally avalanched off his broncho and made a
dash at the tent flap, frapping it loudly with the flat of his hand.

"Here you--anybody inside?"

No response came from the owner of the leg.

"Here you, waken up." Matthews caught hold of the leg and pulled and
pulled. There was a splutter of snorts, and, 'what in Hell's,' and the
fat girth of an apple-shaped body ripped the tent pegging free and came
out under the tepee skirt followed by another leg, and two oozy hands
flabbily clawing at the grass roots to stop the unusual exit. One hand
held a flat flask and the air became flavored with the second-hand
fumes of a whiskey cask. The sheriff rolled over after the manner of
apple-shaped bodies and sat up on the end of his spine rubbing