ion of the country a tool like that will stand a
man good agin starvation."

"It's all I own that's worth anything, an' I'll be mighty sorry to
lose it; but she's got to go."

Again the men looked at the boy, then at each other; and Parsons
motioned for his companion to follow him a short distance away, where,
to Dick's great surprise, they began an animated conversation.

CHAPTER IV.

AT ANTELOPE SPRING.

Dick was perplexed by the behavior of these two strangers. He failed
utterly to understand why they should have anything of such a private
nature to discuss that it was necessary to move aside from him; for in
a few moments they would be alone on the desert, after he had gone his
way.

The discussion, or conversation, whichever it may have been, did not
occupy many moments; but brief as was the time, Dick had turned to
continue his journey at the instant when the men rejoined him.

"What do you allow you ought to get for that rifle?" Parsons asked
abruptly.

"That's what I don't know. You see, I didn't buy it new, but traded
for her before we left home. It seems to me she ought to be a bargain
at--at--ten dollars."

"An' if you get the cash you're goin' to blow it right in for what the
doctor can tell you, an' sich stuff as he thinks your old man ought
to have eh?"

"That's what I'll do if it costs as much."

"S'posen it don't? Allow that you've got five dollars left, what then?"

"I'll buy flour, an' bacon, an' somethin' for mother an' Margie with
the balance."

"Do you mean to tell me your father was sich a tenderfoot as to come
down through this way without any outfit?" Robinson asked sternly.

"He had plenty at the time we started; but you see we struck bad luck
all the way along, and when we pulled into Buffalo Meadows we had
cooked the last pound of flour. There wasn't even a bit of meat in the
camp when he got shot. I knocked over a deer last night, an' that will
keep 'em goin' till I get back."

"An' a kid like you is supportin' a family, eh?" Parsons asked in a
kindly tone.

"I don't know what kind of a fist I'm goin' to make of it; but that's
what I'll try to do till daddy gets on his feet again. Say, how long
do you s'pose it'll take a man to get well when one leg is knocked
endways with a bullet plum through the bone of it?"

"It'll be quite a bit, I'm thinkin'--too long for you to stay in
Buffalo Meadows at this time of the year. Two months ought to do it,
eh, Parsons?"