cause you're such a weak little kid that I could break you in two
isn't any reason why I should put up with any foolishness from you.
I mean to see that you act proper, the way an honest kid ought to do.
Savvy?"

"I'd like to know who made you my master?" demanded the boy hotly.

"You've ce'tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn't ride your high
hawss with me. Here's the long and the short of it. To tell lies ain't
square. If I ask you anything you don't want to answer tell me to go to
hell, but don't lie to me. If you do I'll punish you the same as if you
were my brother, so long as you trail with me. If you don't like it, cut
loose and hit the pike for yourself."

"I've a good mind to go."

Bucky waved a hand easily into space. "That's all right, too, son.
There's a heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any one you
like. But if I was as beat as you are, I think I'd keep on the Epitaph
road." He laughed his warm, friendly laugh, before the geniality of
which discord seemed to melt, and again his arm went round the other's
weary shoulders with a caressing gesture that was infinitely protecting.

The boy laughed tremulously. "You're awfully good to me. I know I'm a
cry-baby, sissy boy, but if you'll be patient with me I'll try to be
gamer."

It certainly was strange the way Bucky's pulse quickened and his blood
tingled when he touched the little fellow and heard that velvet
voice's soft murmur. Yes, it surely was strange, but perhaps the young
Irishman's explanation was not the correct one, after all. The cause he
offered to himself for this odd joy and tender excitement was perfectly
simple.

"I'm surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid," he told
himself grimly.

But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsed
through him was probably a more elemental and primeval one than even
madness.

Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a caution and
made his preparations to leave immediately for Chihuahua. Collins had
returned to Tucson, but was in touch with the situation and ready to set
out for any point where he was needed.

Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked at it,
and voiced his perplexity.

"Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had better
ship you back to the Rocking Chair."

"I don't want to go back there. He'll come out again and find me after
you leave."

"Where do you want to go, then? If