d. Buddy had once
been lost in a cave for four harrowing hours, and had found his way out
by sheer luck, passing the skeleton of an Indian and taking the tomahawk
as a souvenir.

Wherefore this particular cave, with a spring back fifty feet from the
entrance where a shaft of sunlight struck the rock through some obscure
slit in the rock, had no thrill for him. But the floor was of fine,
white sand, and the ceiling was knobby and grotesque, and he was quite
willing to sit there beside the spring and eat two sandwiches and talk
foolishness with Honey, using that part of his mind which was not busy
with the complexities of winning money on the speed of his horses when
three horses represented his entire business capital, and with wondering
what was wrong with Burroback Valley, that three persons of widely
different viewpoints had felt it necessary to caution him,--and had
couched their admonitions in such general terms that he could not feel
the force of their warning.

He was thinking back along his life to where false alarms of Indian
outbreaks had played a very large part in the Tomahawk's affairs, and
how little of the ranch work would ever have been done had they listened
to every calamity howler that came along. Honey was talking, and he was
answering partly at random, when she suddenly laughed and got up.

"You must be in love, Bud Birnie. You just said 'yes' when I asked you
if you didn't think water snakes would be coming out this fall with
their stripes running round them instead of lengthwise! You didn't hear
a word--now, did you?"

"I heard music," Bud lied gallantly, "and I knew it was your voice. I'd
probably say yes if you asked me whether the moon wouldn't look better
with a ruffle around it."

"I'll say the moon will be wondering where we are, if we don't start
back. The sun's down."

Bud got up from sitting cross-legged like a Turk, helped Honey to her
feet--and felt her fingers clinging warmly to his own. He led the way
to the cave's mouth, not looking at her. "Great sunset," he observed
carelessly, glancing up at the ridge while he held her horse for her to
mount.

Honey showed that she was perfectly at home in the saddle. She rode on
ahead, leaving Bud to mount and follow. He was just swinging leisurely
into the saddle when Stopper threw his head around, glancing back
toward the level just beyond the cave. At the same instant Bud heard the
familiar, unmistakable swish of a rope headed his way.