What he said was:

"Oh, you'll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay at
that old town. It's a real interesting place. Finished in the adobe
style and that sort of thing. The jail's real comfy, too."

"Would you like something to eat, sir?" presently asked Frank timidly.

"Would I? Why, I'm hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot on
your grub, young man, and watch my smoke."

Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad set in
front of him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible insurrection on
the part of his prisoner.

"I'm a new man," he announced briskly, when he had finished. "That veal
loaf sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had been a young lady
instead of a boy you couldn't fix things up more appetizing."

The lad's face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the ranger's
compliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the small face was. It
made an instinctive, wistful appeal for protection, and Bucky felt an
odd little stirring at his tender Irish heart.

"Might think I was the kid's father to see what an interest I take in
him," the young man told himself reprovingly. "It's all tommyrot, too.
A boy had ought to have more grit. I expect he needed that licking all
right I saved him from."

When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. Epitaph
was only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger preferred to ride
in the cool of the night rather than sit up till daybreak with his
prisoner. Besides, he could then catch the morning train from that town
and save almost a day.

So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, O'Connor in
the center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. It was an Arizona
night of countless stars, with that peculiar soft, velvety atmosphere
that belongs to no other land or time. In the distance the jagged,
violet line of mountains rose in silhouette against a sky not many
shades lighter, while nearer the cool moonlight flooded a land grown
magical under its divine touch.

The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body shifting
now and again in the saddle, so as to change the weight and avoid
stiffness.

It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long breath of
a sigh behind him. The trail had broadened at that point, for they were
now down in the rolling plain, so that two could ride abreast in the
road. Bucky fell back and put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder