That night Casey slept soundly in a bunk built above Joe's bed in the dugout, with Hank and Paw on the opposite side of the room with their guns handy.

In the morning he thought well enough of his stomach to get up and start breakfast when Hank had built the fire.

He was aware of Joe's suspicious gaze from the lower bunk, and of the close presence of Joe's six-shooter eyeing him balefully from underneath the top blanket.

Hank, too, was watchful as a coyote, which he much resembled, in Casey's opinion.

But Casey did not mind trifles of that kind, once his mind was at ease about the breakfast and he was free to slice bacon the right thickness, and mix the hot-cake batter himself.