you come out here--and behave
yourself. Lord knows you are old enough to know better."

"That's right, mam. Jim is sure old enough to know better 'n to behave
hisself. You feed us so plumb good, mam, that we jest can't set still
nohow. I reckon it was the pie that done it. Reckon them dried apples
kind of turned to cider."

Mrs. Bailey swung around with all the dignity of a liner leaving
harbor, and headed for the house.

"Is she gone?" came in a hoarse whisper.

"You come near this house to-night and you'll find out!" Mrs. Bailey
advised from the doorway.

"It's the hay for yours, Jim," comforted a cowboy.

Pete hesitated as to which course were better. Finally he decided to
"throw in" with the men.

Bailey lighted the hanging lamp in the bunk-house, and the boys
shuffled in, grinning sheepishly. "You're sure a he-widder to-night,"
said Bill Haskins sympathetically.

Bailey grinned. His good wife was used to such pranks. In fact the
altogether unexpected and amusing carryings on of the boys did much
toward lightening the monotony when times were dull, as they were just
then. Had the boys ceased to cut up for any length of time, Ma Bailey
would have thought them ill and would have doctored them accordingly.

Pete became interested in watching Bill Haskins endeavor to shave
himself with cold water by the light of the hanging lamp.

Presently Pete's attention was diverted to the cowboy whom Mrs. Bailey
had sent outdoors to smoke. He had fished up from somewhere a piece of
cardboard and a blue pencil. He was diligently lettering a sign which
he eventually showed to his companions with no little pride. It read:

"NO SMOKING ALOUD."

Pete did not see the joke, but he laughed heartily with the rest. The
laughter had just about subsided when a voice came from across the way:
"Jim, you come right straight to bed!"

Bailey indicated a bunk for Pete and stepped from the bunk-house.

Presently the boys heard Mrs. Bailey's voice. "Good-night, boys."

"Good-night, Ma!" they chorused heartily.

And "Good-night, Pete," came from the house.

"Good-night, Ma!" shrilled Pete, blushing.

"I'm plumb sore!" asserted Haskins. "'Good-night, boys,' is good
enough for us. But did you hear what come after! I kin see who gits
all the extra pie around this here ranch! I've half a mind to quit."

"What--eatin' pie?"

"Nope! Joshin' Ma. She allus gits the best of us."

CHAPTER XI

POP ANNERSLEY