ance, received this
friendly overture with a pair of punishing hoofs. Blunder staggered and
fell, but scrambled to his feet again, astonished, indignant, highly
offended.

"If you was to drive that blunder colt up to horse-heaven and he knew it
_was_ horse-heaven, you'd have to turn him around and back him in. Then
I reckon he'd bust the corral tryin' to get out again."

Collie grinned. "Well, I wouldn't this morning--if there was anything
to eat there, even hay."

"Well, you don't get your breakfast at the chuck-house _this_ morning,"
said Williams gruffly.

"I don't, eh? Since when?"

Williams again turned in his saddle, observing Collie for a minute
before he spoke. "I see you're smilin', so I'll tell you. Since when?
Well, since about two hours ago, when Miss Louise come steppin' over to
the bunk-house and asks where you are. Billy Dime ups and tells her you
was sick-nursin' the blunder colt. She didn't smile, but turned to me
and asked me. I told her about what was doin'. I seen she had it in for
somebody. It was me. 'Brand,' she says, quiet-like, 'is it customary on
the Moonstone for lunch or dinner to be taken to the men that are
staying out from camp?'

"'Yes, ma'am,' says I.

"And the plumb hell of it was," continued Williams, "she didn't say
another word. I wisht she had. I feel like a little less than nothin'
shot full of holes this lovely mornin'."

Collie rode on silently.

"Why don't you say somethin'?" queried Williams.

"I was waiting for the rest of it," said Collie.

Williams laughed. "I guess you ain't such a fool, at that, with your
nussin' stock and settin' up nights with 'em. Miss Louise says to tell
you to come right up to the house,--the _house_, you understand,--and
get your breakfast with them. They said they was goin' to wait for you.
I guess that ain't throwin' it into the rest of us some. Keep it up,
Collie kid, keep it up, and you'll be payin' us all wages some day."

CHAPTER XVII

GUESTS

A month had passed since the rescue of the blunder colt. The air was
warm and clear, the sky intensely blue. Moonstone Canon grew fragrant
with budding flowers. The little lizards came from their winter crevices
and clung to the sun-warmed stones. A covey of young quail fluttered
along the hillside under the stately surveillance of the mother bird.
Wild cats prowled boldly on the southern slopes. Cotton-tails huddled
beneath the greasewood brush and nibbled at the grasses. The c