, and they were bewailing the fact that they had not forseen
such an emergency--though Happy Jack did assert that he had all along
expected it.

"By golly, I'll strike out afoot and hunt him up, if he don't heave
in sight mighty suddent," threatened Slim passionately, after a long,
dismal silence. "By golly, he'll wisht I hadn't, too."

Cal looked up from studying pensively his patent leathers. "Go on,
Slim, and round him up. This is sure getting hilarious--a fine way
to spend the Fourth!"

"Maybe that festive bunch that held up the Lewistown Bank, day before
yesterday, came along and laid the hawk away on the hillside so they
could help themselves to fresh horses," hazarded Jack Bates, in the
hope that Happy Jack would seize the opening to prophesy a new
disaster.

"I betche that's what's happened, all right," said Happy, rising to
the bait. "I betche yuh won't see no horses t'day--ner no
night-hawk, neither."

The Happy Family looked at one another and grinned.

"Who'll stir the lemonade and help pass the sandwiches?" asked Pink,
sadly. "Who'll push, when the school-ma'am wants to swing? Or Len
Adams? or--"

"Oh, saw off!" Weary implored. "We can think up troubles enough,
Cadwolloper, without any help from you."

"Well, I guess your troubles are about over, cully--I can hear 'em
coming." Pink picked up his rope and started for the horse corral as
the belated cavvy came jingling around the nose of the nearest hill.
The Happy Family brightened perceptibly; after all, they could be at
the picnic by noon--if they hurried. Their thoughts flew to the
crowd--and to the girls in frilly dresses--under the pine trees in a
certain canyon just where the Bear Paws reach lazily out to shake
hands with the prairie land.

Up on the high level, with the sun hot against their right cheeks and
a lazy breeze flipping neckerchief ends against their smiling lips,
the world seemed very good, and a jolly place to live in, and there
was no such thing as trouble anywhere. Even Happy Jack was betrayed
into expecting much pleasure and no misfortune, and whistled while he
rode.

Five miles slipped behind them easily--so easily that their horses
perked ears and tugged hard against the bits. The next five were
rougher, for they had left the trail and struck out across a rough
bit of barrenness on a short cut to the ford in Sheep Coulee. All
the little gullies and washouts were swept clean and smooth with the
storm, and t