ing like hell, and the
smoke uh the train's just coming around the bend from the big field.
Wonder what struck her so sudden?" He turned and looked down into the
grinning face of Andy Green.

"She was real insulted because you fellows played hookey," Andy
explained. "I tried to explain, but it didn't help none. I don't
believe her heart went out to us like she claimed, anyhow."

* * * * *

HAPPY JACK, WILD MAN.

Happy Jack, over on the Shonkin range, saw how far it was to the river
and mopped the heat-crimsoned face of him with a handkerchief not
quite as clean as it might have been. He hoped that the Flying U
wagons would be where he had estimated that they would be; for he was
aweary of riding with a strange outfit, where his little personal
peculiarities failed to meet with that large tolerance accorded by the
Happy Family. He didn't think much of the Shonkin crew; grangers and
pilgrims, he called them disgustedly in his mind. He hoped the Old Man
would not send him on that long trip with them south of the
Highwoods--which is what he was on his way to find out about. What
Happy Jack was hoping for, was to have the Old Man--as represented by
Chip--send one of the boys back with him to bring over what Flying U
cattle had been gathered, together with Happy's bed and string of
horses. Then he would ride with the Happy Family on the familiar range
that was better, in his eyes, than any other range that ever lay
outdoors--and the Shonkin outfit could go to granny. (Happy did not,
however, say "granny").

He turned down the head of a coulee which promised to lead him, by the
most direct route--if any route in the Badlands can be called
direct--to the river, across which, and a few miles up on Suction
Creek, he confidently expected to find the Flying U wagons. The coulee
wound aimlessly, with precipitous sides that he could not climb, even
by leading his horse. Happy Jack, under the sweltering heat of
mid-June sunlight, once more mopped his face, now more crimson than
ever, and relapsed into his habitual gloom. Just when he was telling
himself pessimistically that the chances were he would run slap out on
a cut bank where he couldn't get down to the river at all, the coulee
turned again and showed the gray-blue water slithering coolly past,
with the far bank green and sloping invitingly.

The horse hurried forward at a shuffling trot and thrust his hot
muzzle into the delicious