e
leather fringe of his chaps, the ends of the polka-dot handkerchief
knotted about his neck.

"Yuh're some glad to see me, Whiskers, ole gal--if Mira ain't. But
then yuh 'n' me knowed each other longer, an' sort o' got to see the
good p'ints."

He laughed slyly at Mira from the corner of his eyes, and she laughed
back, with a tinge of sadness in the tone, and turned away to take the
painter from Juno. A second horse that had followed Whiskers from the
trees stepped aboard the raft after the pinto.

"Bes' wait till it's darker," advised Blue Pete. "They got mighty
peery since that las' raft showed us up. How d'yuh like the new one?
'Tain't's nifty 's the ole one, but it's easier handled, an' it'll last
us through, I guess."

Mira was examining it soberly. "What's the matter with it? It don't
seem even somehow."

He looked it over sheepishly. "I figured if I made it a bit shorter
one side, yuh'd have less to pull. What bustin' I've did's run more to
horses than boats, but ain't that about right? But the dang thing
don't seem to work--like a loco'ed cayuse. Anyway it was a job. Them
bohunks is getting' to roamin' about real annoyin', an' Koppy wust of
all."

"Who was shooting just before you gave me the signal?"

"The bohunks, out after sparrow pie fer supper, I guess," he lied
placidly, "ur larnin' which end a gun fires at. It's real dangerous in
the bush these days. Fus' thing we know we'll have to show ourselves
'n' ask 'em to shoot at us to be safe. These loose bullets ain't a bit
reasonable."

Mira let him ramble on; she loved to hear him, loved it now more than
ever, after her absence south with the last lot of stolen horses.

"Ain't it a bit small for horses, Pete?"

He eyed the raft doubtfully. "Thar's jes' two more, yuh know. It'll
carry 'em, I guess. Anyway we kin make two trips of it." He paused
and turned his gleaming eyes full on her face. "Jes' two more, Mira,
an' then we kin clear out!"

"Where to, Pete?" She looked up at him in sudden fright then that she
had spoken so plainly.

"Why--why--down south--to the 3-bar-Y--to suthin' wuth livin' fer--to
whar yuh'll be a sight better off than with a rough cuss like me."

The wistfulness that had stilled her laugh and sobered her face these
many weeks spoke at last; her eyes were wet.

"Have you thought, Pete, dear--thought what'll happen when they get us
again?"

"Sure I have," he replied bravely. "Wot d'yuh mean?"

"Wh