e rubbing of this saddle on the outside,--an old pirate with eyes
like a young sheep and whiskers like Santa Claus robbed me of twenty
bucks for it back yonder in that jay town,--and my bones inside trying
to poke through the skin, I'm just peeled like a seal whose skin some
flash dame is wearing for a coat. Say," with a groan as he shifted a
little in the saddle which he blamed for his woes, "you don't live so
awful far from here, do you?"

"No," she smiled. "Just across the valley."

"Nix on that!" he cried sharply, as if in sudden alarm. "They been
talking that way to me ever since I got lost the eighty-second time.
'Down to a cross road,' they'd say, lying as would shame a second story
man caught with the goods. 'Then turn to your right and go straight
ahead and it's just a little piece.' I ain't ever hurt you, lady, and
I wouldn't, not for a hundred dollars. But I'm awful sore being told
it's just over yonder. How far is it, measured in something civilised,
like blocks?"

He was the most anxiously earnest little man Wanda had ever seen, and
the most dejectedly miserable. Still vastly amused she began to feel a
little sorry for him. He was such a veritable babe in the wood for
helplessness.

"Really, it isn't far," she assured him. "Just a trifle over three
miles."

"Lord," he groaned, staring at her reproachfully. "The way you folks
talk about distance out here makes my flesh creep. But, say, is that
the nearest place?"

"Yes."

"Then can I go home with you, Miss? And will you scare up something
for me to eat? I'm so starved I'd eat egg shells."

He was such a harmless looking, innocent, pitiable creature with his
plaintive voice and childish eyes that her amusement turned to pity.

"If you are very hungry and tired," she suggested gently, "you can
lunch with me now. I always bring something along to eat."

His eyes brightened and a smile set quick dimples in the round face.
He released his bridle reins promptly, put his two hands on the horn of
the saddle--Wanda noticed that they were hands like a girl's, soft and
white with beautiful, tapering fingers and rosy nails--got a stiff leg
over the cantle, wriggled over on his stomach and as his horse moved a
little he fell off. For a moment he remained sitting.

"Birds was made to fly and fishes to swim," he remarked impersonally
and philosophically. "Me, I'm going to walk after this. I ain't ever
going to split myself in two over a hors