eople, an' a rifle fer the P'lice . . .
me shovin' rocks 'n' logs into a hole in the groun' that won't fill
this side everlastin'! . . . Kin yuh 'magine it, ole woman? An' them
joshin' 'n' guyin' me, an' me swallerin' it like a tenderfoot! . . .
An' never did fer one of 'em!"

The dog evidently considered it too preposterous for caudal comment;
eyes and ears and nose were stretched toward the shore they were
nearing.

"Yah, she's thar all right, eh, Juno? Yer eyes is better'n mine--but I
bet I kin feel her thar. That's whar I git the bulge on yuh, ole
woman." The half-breed chuckled, and leaned more powerfully to the
sweep. "An 'magine me shakin' chaps fer overalls, an' this ole Stetson
fer a fi'-cent cap, an' these nifty ridin' boots fer things as big as
this scow . . . an' takin' back-talk from a two-by-five Pole I cud
break over one knee 'n' kick the pieces tuh Medicine Hat. . . . But it
won't be fer long now, Juno. Jest two more little horses 'n' it's
did . . . all did. . . . An' then mebbe we kin go back an' hold up our
heads, Mira 'n' you 'n' Whiskers 'n' me. . . . Wonder wot Whiskers
thinks o' me these days!"

He concentrated on the working of the sweep. Juno raised herself to
give every inch of her stubby tail a chance. Blue Pete peered eagerly
into the shadows along the shore.

"An' thar's yer missus, Juno," he cried joyfully. "Mira--our Mira!"

A few powerful movements of his arm swept the raft sideways against the
bank. A woman, small and dainty, swarthy but without Indian blood,
leaned eagerly forward--eager but shy. Waves of dark hair peeped from
beneath her Stetson, and her green blouse blazed against the darker hue
of the trees as she stood, one foot advanced, holding her arms toward
the halfbreed.

Tossing the painter to the dog, Blue Pete leaped ashore and gathered
her in his arms without a word. Then, tremulously happy but abashed by
the fervour of their meeting, he released her and looked enquiringly
about.

"I suppose it should have been Whiskers first," she pouted.

He laughed and whistled twice, and out from the trees trotted an ugly
little pinto, all blotches of yellowish white and faded red, with a
ragged tail that looked as if something had started to make a meal of
it but became disgusted just before the end; and the left ear drooped
humorously in its upper third. It nosed up against the halfbreed,
nibbling playfully at his ears, his hands, the brim of his Stetson, th