ost
suitable man, besides being willing to come, I engaged him. He is a
rough and ready, but a handy and faithful, man, who had some experience
in woodcraft before he went to sea, but I have been forced to leave him
behind me at a ranch a good many miles to the south of David's store,
owing to the foolish fellow having tried to jump a creek in the dark and
broken his horse's leg. We could not get another horse at the time, and
as I was very anxious to push on--being so near my journey's end--and
the ranch was a comfortable enough berth, I left him behind, as I have
said, with directions to stay till I should return, or to push on if he
could find a safe guide."

While Charlie Brooke was relating the last part of his experience, it
might have been observed that the countenance of Buck Tom underwent a
variety of curious changes, like the sky of an April day. A somewhat
stern frown settled on it at last but neither of his companions observed
the fact being too much interested in each other.

"What was the name o' the ranch where your mate was left?" asked Buck
Tom, when his guest ceased speaking.

"The ranch of Roaring Bull," answered Charlie. "I should not wonder,"
he added, "if its name were derived from its owner's voice, for it
sounded like the blast of a trombone when he shouted to his people."

"Not only his ranch but himself is named after his voice," returned
Buck. "His real name is Jackson, but it is seldom used now. Every one
knows him as Roaring Bull. He's not a bad fellow at bottom, but
something overbearing, and has made a good many enemies since he came to
this part of the country six years ago."

"That may be so," remarked Brooke, "but he was very kind to us the day
we put up at his place, and Dick Darvall, at all events, is not one of
his enemies. Indeed he and Roaring Bull took quite a fancy to each
other. It seemed like love at first sight. Whether Jackson's pretty
daughter had anything to do with the fancy on Dick's part of course I
can't say. Now, I think of it, his readiness to remain behind inclines
me to believe it had!"

"Well, come outside with me, and have a chat about old, times. It is
too hot for comfort here. I dare say our friend Shank will spare you
for quarter of an hour, and the pot can look after itself. By the way,
it would be as well to call me Buck Tom--or Buck. My fellows would not
understand Ralph Ritson. They never heard it before. Have a cigar?"

"No, thank