m with interest, but still was unable to consider
him anything but an imaginative failure--a man who perhaps had seen
better days.

When they had finished eating, he collected the dishes, and, as water
was heating on the oil stove, had everything washed up and in its place
before the resumption of their travel.

"He's clean and neat and thoughtful," Jerkline Jo reflected. "Perhaps
I'll be able to use him after all. We could use an extra man as
roustabout, if business gets good. I'll see. He seems so fond of
Hiram, and, really, if it weren't for him, I'd never heard of Hiram."

She grew thoughtful then, and a trace of red showed under her brown
skin. Why had she become so interested in this big countryman from the
very start, she wondered.

It was a long, tiresome trip, and days before they reached their
temporary destination Hiram Hooker was riding in Jo's wagon, deep in
history and algebra and grammar, for Jo had with her all of her
schoolbooks.

The days seemed short to both of them. As the magnificent whites
plodded steadily on, there was added to the music of the nickeled bells
the rapid clicking of Jo at the portable typewriter, or the slower,
hesitating peck of Hiram Hooker. They were a silent pair, for they
were deep in their studies.

Strange indeed was the picture they presented as they were moved slowly
along under the hot desert sky. But for Hiram, at least, this was the
beginning of everything. Some magic touch had set him on the road that
for years he had longed to travel--the road to knowledge and a better
life. Beside him rode the adventure girl who had been beckoning him
out of the woods of doubt and ignorance, the girl who had colored his
dreams up on lonely Wild-cat Hill.

Hiram quickly became a favorite with Jo's skinners, too; for anybody or
anything that the girl approved of was sure to make an appeal to the
loyal little crew who swore by Jerkline Jo. Besides, Hiram was
irresistible in his quaint geniality and his musical drawl. They
called him "Wild Cat" at first, but when they considered his hugeness
and uniform good nature the name seemed a misnomer; so they amended it
and called him "The Gentle Wild Cat." This moniker clung to Hiram
Hooker through all of his subsequent life in the desert.

The seventh day after their start, at evening, they rolled into Julia
and set the populace agog with speculation.

As the whites passed the depot the station master came out.

"Does a