to the door. A lank and lean Pike
County Missourian rose from the shadows and advanced.

"Light and rest yo' hat, Mr. Orde!" he called before he came well into
view. "But yo' already lighted, and you ain't go no hat!" he cried in
puzzled tones. "Whar yo'all from?"

"Came from north," Bob replied cheerfully, "and I lost my horse down a
canon, and my hat in a river."

"And yere yo' be plumb afoot!"

"And plumb empty," supplemented Bob. "Maybe Mrs. Ward will make me some
coffee," he suggested with a side glance at the woman who had once tried
to poison him.

She turned a dull red under the tan of her sallow complexion.

"Shore, Mr. Orde--" she began.

"We didn't rightly understand each other," Bob reassured her. "That was
all."

"Did she-all refuse you coffee onct?" asked Ward. "What yo' palaverin'
about?"

"She isn't refusing to make me some now," said Bob.

He spent the night comfortably with his new friends who a few months ago
had been ready to murder him. The next morning early, supplied with an
ample lunch, he set out. Ward offered him a riding horse, but he
declined.

"I'd have to send it back," said he, "and, anyway, I'd neither want to
borrow your saddle nor ride bareback. I'd rather walk."

The old man accompanied him to the edge of the clearing.

"By the way," Bob mentioned, as he said farewell, "if some one asks you,
just tell them you haven't seen me."

The old man stopped short.

"What-for a man?" he asked.

"Any sort."

A frosty gleam crept into the old Missourian's eye.

"I'll keep hands off," said he. He strode on twenty feet. "I got an
extra gun--" said he.

"Thanks," Bob interrupted. "But I'll get organized better when I get
home."

"Hope you git him," said the old man by way of farewell. "He won't git
nothing out of me," he shot back over his shoulder.

Bob now knew exactly where he was going. Reinvigorated by the food, the
night's rest, and the cool air of these higher altitudes, he made good
time. By four o'clock of the afternoon he at last hit the broad, dusty
thoroughfare over which were hauled the supplies to Baker's upper works.
Along this he swung, hands in pockets, a whistle on his lips, the fine,
light dust rising behind his footsteps. The slight down grade released
his tired muscles from effort. He was enjoying himself.

Then he came suddenly around a corner plump against a horseman climbing
leisurely up the grade. Both stopped.

If Bob had entertained any linge