to investigate. Some are preachers, some cunning lawyers
and some statesmen--they call 'em so. The investigation drags along
while the poor devils go hungry. Rations are held back, blankets rot for
want of transportation, and somebody back in the woodpile is getting
rich all the time. Then the Injun takes it out of a party of prospectors
or some poor rancher, or like as not holds up a train of mules and the
mule-skinners 'bite the dust' after defending their own property. But I
suppose in the end it is all for the benefit of what they call
civilization. Let's go and see them ponies over there."

"Look," said Jack; "must have been a bunch of folks come in last night,"
pointing to a regular settlement of new tents and camping outfits.

"Well, durn my pictures," ejaculated Cal. "Throw a rope on that
blaze-faced, lop-eared son of Israel with a pack on his back and let's
see his brand. Guess you find them everywhere except in Jerusalem.
Hello, Isaac; where's Abraham?"

"Who'd you mean, my brodder or my fadder? My name is Cohen, and I gome
to make a locashun for a cloding store. Dis will be a fine blace for a
town, und Cohen will be der bioneer merchant, ain't it?"

"Git out, you hook-nosed Jew; this is Injun reservation, and yer 'Uncle
Sam' don't allow no storekeepers here, except his own pets!"

"What iss dot? I got no Ungel Sam; I got un Ungel Moses und Ungel
Solomon, but no Ungel Sam. Ain'd dis a new town? Don' the shentlemans
wand a negdie or hangerchief? I haf a"--but Jack and Cal had turned a
deaf ear to the would-be "bioneer."

As Jack stepped around the trunk of a big pine the noose of a lariat
circled around and settled over his head and arms; a short jerk and he
was brought up standing. Cal looked on wonderingly, for at the other end
of the rope sat a buckskin-clad cow-puncher mounted on a thoroughbred
cow-pony.

"Now will you be good?" The bronzed face of "Happy Jack" broke into
wreaths of smiles and happy laughter.

"Hello, Jack!"

"Hello yourself."

"Shake, old man--put her thar, Jack. Glad ter see yer. Never thought to
see yer over here among the Utes."

"When did you leave Roaring Forks?"

"About a week ago; been looking for some horses that are missing."

"Jack, shake hands with Cal Wagner. No, not the minstrel man, but his
equal just the same."

"Cal, this is 'Happy Jack' of the Bar E Ranch over in the Grand River
country."

Both men, thus introduced, shook hands, and after a few exchanges