over the transportation
problem to you folks. _Adios_."

"Prepare to ride in the chair car," Rosemary called after him warningly.
"Even a tourist sleeper is going to be too luxurious for us; we're going
to squeeze nickels till they just squeal!"

Luck held the door open while he smiled approvingly at her. "That'll be
playing the game right from the start. _Adios_, folks."

CHAPTER TEN

UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD

Applehead Forrman was worried over his cat, Compadre, which is Spanish
for comrade or something of that sort. It was a blue cat and it was a
big cat, and it had a bellicose disposition, and Applehead was anxious
because it had lately declared war on a neighboring coyote and had not
come out of the battle unscathed. Applehead had heard the disturbance
and had gone out with a rifle and dispersed the coyote, but not until
Compadre had lost half of his tail and a good deal of his
self-assurance. Since that night, almost a week ago, Compadre had been a
changed cat. He had sought dark corners and had yowled when the best
friend he had in the world tried to coax him out to his meals. Applehead
was very patient and very sympathetic, and hunted small game with which
to tempt the invalid's appetite.

On this day he had a fat prairie dog which he had shot, and he was
carrying it around by a hind leg looking for Compadre and calling "Kitty,
kitty, kitty," in the most seductive tones of which his desert-harshened
vocal chords were capable. He looked under the squat adobe cabin which
held all the odds and ends that had accumulated about the place, and
which he called the "ketch-all." He went over and looked under the water
tank where there was shade and coolness. He went to the stable, and from
there he returned to the adobe house, squat like the "ketch-all" but
larger. There was a hole alongside the fireplace chimney at the end next
the hill, and sometimes when Compadre was especially disenchanted with
his world, he went into the hole and nursed his grievances in dark
seclusion under the house.

Applehead got down upon all fours and called "Kitty, kitty, kitty," with
his face close to the hole. It was past noon, and Compadre had not had
anything to eat since the night before, when he had lapped up half a
saucer of canned milk and had apathetically licked a slice of bacon.
Applehead put his ear to the hole and imagined he heard a faint meow from
a far corner. He pushed the prairie dog into the aperture