'
huntin' parties, makin' an honest livin' and layin' for the men who
killed my man. I'll find 'em yet. Now who be ye all? I hain't had no
interduction except as Mister Gray interduced himself to me, and--"

"This is my wife, Grace Harlowe Gray," said Tom.

The forest woman shook hands and glared into Grace's smiling eyes.

"Glad to meet ye, Miss Gray. Ye look like one of them boudwarriors that
I seen pictures of in the high saciety papers."

"Miss Emma Dean," announced Tom, pointing to Emma.

"Glad to meet ye." Joe gave Emma a searching look. "Pert as a bird,
ain't ye?"

"Some of my ancestors, I have reason to believe, were birds, and it is
quite possible that I have inherited some of their traits," answered
Emma airily.

"Sparrows! No good. Don't git swelled up over some of yer folks wearin'
feathers. The kind ye belong to they shoot on sight. And now who be
_ye_?" demanded the woman, stepping up to the dignified J. Elfreda
Briggs.

Elfreda introduced herself.

"Glad to meet ye. Yer quite set up, but I guess ye might come down a peg
after ye git acquainted."

Nora Wingate and Anne Nesbit then introduced themselves, and Joe was
"glad to meet" them, but she forgot to address personal remarks to them,
for her eyes, glaring through the big spectacles, were fixed on Hippy
Wingate's grinning face. All this was "a powerful good joke to him," as
Emma confided to Grace in a loud whisper.

Joe strode over to Hippy and peered down into his face as he sat playing
with Hindenburg.

"I reckon some of yer ancestors must been monkeys, judgin' from that
monkey-grin on yer face. What's yer name?"

Hippy told her, adding that he had been a flying ace in the world war,
which announcement he made pompously.

"Glad to meet ye, Lieutenant; but look smart that ye don't try any of
yer flytricks on Joe Shafto. Six o'clock, folks. Remember!" was Joe's
parting word as she strode swiftly from their camp, screwing up her face
into a long-drawn wink as she passed Grace Harlowe. In that wink Grace
read what she had been searching for. Joe Shafto was human and a
humorist, crude, but with a keen mind and a love for banter that
promised much enjoyment for the Overland Riders.

"I wonder who is the Henry that she mentioned?" reflected Grace out
loud.

"Perhaps Henry may be a tame goose. Think of 'June' and 'July' as names
for mules," chortled Hippy. "Oh, we're going to have a merry, merry time
this coming two months--especially Hin