ll, what is he then?" cried Johnnie. "What is he then?"

"It's my opinion," replied the cowboy deliberately, "he's some kind of
a Dutchman." It was a venerable custom of the country to entitle as
Swedes all light-haired men who spoke with a heavy tongue. In
consequence the idea of the cowboy was not without its daring. "Yes,
sir," he repeated. "It's my opinion this feller is some kind of a
Dutchman."

"Well, he says he's a Swede, anyhow," muttered Johnnie, sulkily. He
turned to the Easterner: "What do you think, Mr. Blanc?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied the Easterner.

"Well, what do you think makes him act that way?" asked the cowboy.

"Why, he's frightened." The Easterner knocked his pipe against a rim
of the stove. "He's clear frightened out of his boots."

"What at?" cried Johnnie and cowboy together.

The Easterner reflected over his answer.

"What at?" cried the others again.

"Oh, I don't know, but it seems to me this man has been reading
dime-novels, and he thinks he's right out in the middle of it--the
shootin' and stabbin' and all."

"But," said the cowboy, deeply scandalized, "this ain't Wyoming, ner
none of them places. This is Nebrasker."

"Yes," added Johnnie, "an' why don't he wait till he gits _out West?_"

The travelled Easterner laughed. "It isn't different there even--not
in these days. But he thinks he's right in the middle of hell."

Johnnie and the cowboy mused long.

"It's awful funny," remarked Johnnie at last.

"Yes," said the cowboy. "This is a queer game. I hope we don't git
snowed in, because then we'd have to stand this here man bein' around
with us all the time. That wouldn't be no good."

"I wish pop would throw him out," said Johnnie.

Presently they heard a loud stamping on the stairs, accompanied by
ringing jokes in the voice of old Scully, and laughter, evidently from
the Swede. The men around the stove stared vacantly at each other.
"Gosh!" said the cowboy. The door flew open, and old Scully, flushed
and anecdotal, came into the room. He was jabbering at the Swede, who
followed him, laughing bravely. It was the entry of two roisterers
from a banquet-hall.

"Come now," said Scully sharply to the three seated men, "move up and
give us a chance at the stove." The cowboy and the Easterner
obediently sidled their chairs to make room for the new-comers.
Johnnie, however, simply arranged himself in a more indolent attitude,
and then remained motionless.

"Come! Git ove