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was a rap at the door, and Bob thrust his head into the room to announce in a surly tone that breakfast was ready. "Where's Zeke?" asked George. "Gone," was the laconic reply. "All right! If he is foolish enough to go off without any breakfast, let him go. He'll meet me somewhere along the trail and say good-bye, I know. Bob," added George, pointing to the clothes-bag, which he had packed while he and his visitor were conversing, "put this into the pack-saddle, and have everything ready, so that I can start as soon as I have eaten breakfast.--Come on, Springer." George led the way into an adjoining room, and found an excellent breakfast waiting for him. The cook, knowing that this was the last meal the young master of the ranche would eat at that table for long months to come, had exhausted all his knowledge of the cuisine in the effort to serve up a breakfast that would tempt George to eat, no matter whether he was hungry or not. True to his promise, Bob kept out of the breakfast-room, and George and his guest were obliged to wait on themselves; but as they were used to that, they got on very well. While they were eating George once more repeated the instructions he had given Springer, and reiterated his promise to furnish him with steady employment and give him a chance to make an honest living. Breakfast over, George accompanied his guest to the door, and saw him ride away toward Eagle Pass. As soon as he was out of sight the boy went into the house after his weapons and to take leave of the servants, who were good-natured enough now that Springer was gone. After shaking them all by the hand, and listening to their hearty wishes for his safe and speedy return, he mounted his horse, which stood at the porch saddled and bridled, took his pack-mule by the halter and rode away toward Mr. Gilbert's ranche. The first person to greet him as he drew rein in front of the door was Zeke, who had so emphatically declared that he would not have another word to say to him. "Where's that pizen varmint?" demanded the herdsman in no very amiable tones. "Look here, Zeke," replied George, "if you should happen to meet that man while I am gone, I want you to treat him civilly; do you understand? If you see him in trouble, I want you to help him out. He is sorry for what he has done, and intends to lead a better life; and if you don't assist him in every way you can, you are not the fellow I take you for." "Humph!" e
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