e wriggled away and smoothed down his hair.

"I can beat you shootin' at tin cans," he said suddenly, to change the
subject.

Shooting at tin cans was much more interesting than talking about beaux.

"I have to help Aunt Jane get supper," said Dorothy, who had been
invited to stay for supper that evening. In fact, she was often at the
Hastings ranch, a more than welcome guest.

Jimmy scowled. Dorry was always helping Aunt Jane make dresses or trim
hats, or get supper. A few minutes later Little Jim was out back of the
barn, scowling over the sights of his twenty-two at a tomato can a few
yards away. He fired and punctured the can.

"Plumb center!" he exclaimed. "You think you're her beau, do you? Well,
that's what you get. And if I see you around this here ranch, just even
_lookin'_ at her, I'll plug you again." Jimmy was romancing, with the
recently discussed subject of beaux in mind.

When Little Jim informed the household that his father and another man
were coming over, that evening, Uncle Frank asked who the other man was.
Little Jim described Bartley and told about the wonderful Luger gun.

"My dad is huntin' his hosses," he said. "And I know who's got 'em!"

"Was the other man a deputy?" queried Uncle Frank.

"He didn't have a badge on him. He kind of acted like everything was a
joke--shootin' at that stump, and everything. He wasn't mad at nobody.
And he looked kind of like a dude."

Little Jim meanwhile amused himself by trying to rope the family cat
with a piece of clothesline. Uncle Frank, who took everything seriously,
asked Little Jim if he had told his father where the horses were.

"Sure I told him. Wouldn't you? They're dad's hosses, Filaree and Josh.
I guess he'll make ole Clubfoot Sneed give 'em back!"

"You want to be careful what you say about Mr. Sneed, Jimmy. And don't
you go to ridin' over that way again. We aim to keep out of trouble."

Little Jim had succeeded in noosing the cat's neck. That sadly molested
animal jumped, rolled over, and clawed at the rope, and left hurriedly
with the bit of clothesline trailing in its wake.

"I got to git that cat afore he hangs himself," stated Little Jim,
diving out of the house and heading for the barn. Thus he avoided
acknowledging his uncle's command to stay away from Sneed's place.

Supper was over and the dishes were washed and put away when Cheyenne
and Bartley appeared. Clean-shaven, his dark hair brushed smoothly, a
small, dark-blue, s