y, yet with a touch
of humor.

"Do you mean it?" Bartley's voice was boyishly enthusiastic, like the
voice of a chum, a hearty comrade. "But how about your own folks?"

Dorothy's answer was not given then and there, in words. Nor yet by
gesture, nor in any visible way--there being no moon that early in the
evening. After a brief interval--or, at least, it seemed brief--they
rose and strolled back down the road, the yellow dog padding faithfully
at their heels. Presently--

"Hey, Dorry!" came in a shrill voice.

"It's the scout!" exclaimed Bartley, laughing.

"We're coming, Jimmy," called Dorothy.

"But before we're taken into custody--" said Bartley; and as mentioned
before, the moon had not appeared.

Little Jim, astride of the ranch gate, querulously demanded where they
had been and why they had not told him they were going somewhere.

"And you left the gate open, and--everything!" concluded Jimmy.

"We just went for a walk," said Dorothy.

"What's the use of walkin' up the old road in the dark?" queried Jimmy.
"You can't see anything."

"What do you say to a rabbit hunt to-morrow morning early?" asked
Bartley.

"Nope!" declared Little Jim decisively. "'Cause my dad was talkin' with
Aunt Jane and Uncle Frank, and dad says me and him are goin' back to
Laramie where ma is. And we're goin' on the _train_. Aunt Jane she
cried. But shucks! We ain't goin' to stay in Laramie all the time. Dad
says if things rib up right, me and ma and him are comin' back to live
in the valley. Don't you wish you was goin', Dorry?"

"You run along and tell Aunt Jane we're coming," said Bartley.

Little Jim hesitated. But then, Mr. Bartley had bought him that new
rifle. Jimmy pattered down the path to the lighted doorway, delivered
his message, and pattered back again toward the gate, wasting no time
_en route_. Halfway to the gate he stopped. Mr. Bartley was standing
very close to Dorry--in fact, Jimmy was amazed to see him kiss her.
Jimmy turned and trotted back to the house.

"Shucks!" he exclaimed. "I thought he liked guns and things more'n
girls!"

But Jimmy was too loyal to tell what he had seen. After all, Dorry was
mighty fine, for a girl. She could ride and shoot, and she never told on
him when he had done wrong.

With a skip and a hop Jimmy burst into the room. "We're goin' on the
_train_," he declared. "Ain't we, dad?"

Dorothy and Bartley came in. Bartley glanced at Cheyenne, hesitated, and
then thrust out h