bring me
that revolver, and if I catch you meddling with it again I'll put that
pair of fur rugs you are so proud of in the fire."

Bill, who was ignorant of the ham, emerged sheepishly into the open.
"Where the--where the dickens did you hit him, Miss Tish?" he asked.

"In the stomach," Tish replied tartly, and taking her revolver went back
to the tent.

All the next day Tish was quiet. She rode ahead, hardly noticing the
scenery, with her head dropped on her chest. At luncheon she took a
sardine sandwich and withdrew to a tree, underneath which she sat, a
lonely and brooding figure.

When luncheon was over and Aggie and I were washing the dishes and
hanging out the dish towels to dry on a bush, Tish approached Bill, who
was pouring water on the fire to extinguish it.

"Bill," she stated, "you came to us under false pretenses. You swear,
for one thing."

"Only under excitement, Miss Tish," he said. "And as far as that goes,
Miss Aggie herself said--"

"Also," Tish went on hastily, "you said you could cook. You cannot
cook."

"Now, look here, Miss Tish," he said in a pleading tone, "I can cook. I
didn't claim to know the whole cookbook. I can make coffee and fry
bacon. How'd I know you ladies wanted pastry? As for them canned salmon
croquettes with white sauce, I reckon to make them with a little
showing, and--"

"Also," said Tish, cutting in sternly, "you took away my revolver, and
left us helpless last night, and in peril of wild beasts."

"Tourists ain't allowed to carry guns."

He attempted to look injured, but Tish ignored him.

"Therefore," she said, "if I am not to send you back--which I have been
considering all day, as I've put up a tent myself before this, and you
are only an extra mouth to feed, which, as we are one ham short, is
inconvenient--you will have to justify my keeping you."

"If you will just show me once about them gems, Miss Tish--" he began.

But Tish cut him off. "No," she said firmly, "you are too casual about
cooking. And you are no dish-washer. Setting a plate in a river and
letting the current wash it may satisfy cow-punchers. It doesn't go with
me. The point is this: You know all about the holdup that is going to
take place. Don't lie. I know you know. Now, you take us there and tell
us all you know about it."

He scratched his head reflectively. "I'll tell you," he said. "I'm a
slow thinker. Give me about twenty minutes on it, will you? It's a sort
of secret, and ther