her lips. She knew children. Not for the world would
she offend this manchild.

"Well, I should say you are a real old cowpuncher!" she exclaimed
admiringly. "Now I'm afraid of skinks. I never would dare knock his
block off! And last night when I was lost and hungry and it got dark,
I--cried!"

"Hunh!" The Kid studied her with a condescending pity. "Oh, well--you're
just a woman. Us fellers have to take care of women. Daddy Chip takes
care of Doctor Dell--I guess she'd cry if she couldn't find the bunch
and had to make dry-camp and skinks come around--but I never."

"Of course you never!" Miss Allen agreed emphatically, trying not to
look conscious of any tear-marks on the Kid's sunburned cheeks. "Women
are regular cry babies, aren't they? I suppose," she added guilefully:
"I'd cry again if you rode off to find the bunch an left me down here
all alone. I've lost my horse, an I've lost my lunch, and I've lost
myself, and I'm awful afraid of skunks--skinks."

"Oh, I'll take care of you," the Kid comforted. "I'll give you a
doughnut if you're hungry. I've got some left, but you'll have to pick
out the glass where the jelly broke on it." He reined closer to the bank
and slid off and began untying the sadly depleted bag from behind
the cantle. Miss Allen offered to do it for him, and was beautifully
snubbed. The Kid may have been just a frightened, lost little boy before
he met her--but that was a secret hidden in the silences of the deep
canyons. Now he was a real old cowpuncher, and he was going to take care
of Miss Allen because men always had to take care of women.

Miss Allen offended him deeply when she called him Claude. She was told
bluntly that he was Buck, and that he belonged to the Flying U outfit,
and was riding down here to help the bunch gather some cattle. "But I
can't find the brakes," he admitted grudgingly. "That's where the bunch
is--down in the brakes; I can't seem to locate them brakes."

"Don't you think you ought to go home to your mother?" Miss Allen asked
him while he was struggling with the knot he had tied in the bag.

"I've got to find the bunch. The bunch needs me," said the Kid. "I--I
guess Doctor Dell is s'prised--"

"Who's Doctor Dell? Your mother? Your mother has just about cried
herself sick, she's so lonesome without you."

The Kid looked at her wide-eyed. "Aw, gwan!" he retorted after a minute,
imitating Happy Jack's disbelief of any unpleasant news. "I guess you're
jest loadin