I musta left it hanging on a bush right close to where I was workin'." Brit's grunt signified assent, and Frank went out.

Jim and Sorry, the two unpicturesque cowboys of whom Lorraine had complained to the cat had already departed with pick and shovel to their unromantic task of digging post holes.

Each carried a most unattractive lunch tied in a flour sack behind the cantle of his saddle.

Lorraine had done her conscientious best, but with lumpy, sour-dough bread, cold bacon and currant jelly of that kind which is packed in wooden kegs, one can't do much with a cold lunch.

Lorraine wondered how much worse it would look after it had been tied on the saddle for half a day; wondered too what those two silent ones got out of life,--what they looked forward to, what was their final goal.