est and the girls came
running up. "They are the slyest little codgers--you don't see them
until you are right on them."

Gertie was on her knees peering before the words were out of his mouth.
She lifted a fourth mite from its hiding place, and a fifth, and a
sixth, almost as fast as she could pick them up. "Oh, aren't they dear?
May I hold them, Jane, when we get back to the wagon?" Gertie was
caressing them with hands and eyes.

There were ten chicks cuddled in the hat, when after a thorough search
of the weeds, Ernest announced that they must surely have them all. But
to make sure they went over the ground in all directions once more.

Jane was very sober. Sherm tried to cheer her.

"You couldn't help it, Chicken Little. You didn't mean to." Sherm smiled
his funny smile as he said this.

"Why are you smiling? Oh, I know--I believe so, too."

"What secrets are you talking?" Katy was curious.

"Yes, speak United States, it isn't polite to leave your guests in the
dark this way," growled Ernest.

Jane haughtily declined to explain just then. When they returned to the
wagon, they found the Captain as much interested in the shot, as he was
in the prairie chicks.

"That was really a wonderful hit, little girl. I congratulate you."

Jane stole a glance at Sherm. He wasn't looking at her, but he was
smiling. Jane smiled, too.

"Yes, Captain Clarke," she replied demurely, "it was rather
astonishing."

This was too much for Sherm who chuckled openly. Captain Clarke looked
from one to the other inquiringly. The others were completely mystified.

"Well, I'd just like to know what you two are up to." Katy wrinkled her
nose in disgust.

"Can't a fellow laugh without having to give an account of himself?"
Sherm parried, still trying to stave off the mirth that possessed him.

Chicken Little's face was sweetly sober. "He's appreciating
my--skill--the rest of you don't seem to realize what a feat----" A
sound, something between a crow and a suppressed steam whistle
interrupted her. Sherm whooped until he was red in the face. Chicken
Little regarded him reproachfully, but continued: "You see most anybody
can hit the chicken they aim at, but it takes a fine shot to hit one you
didn't know was there." She grinned mischievously up at the Captain who
grinned back delightedly.

"Really, Chicken Little?"

"Really." She joined in the general laugh.

"What did you want to tell for?" Sherm had enjoyed having the joke to