PICKLE."]

Mr. Dill was released, and Billy fancied hazily that it was because
he so ordered; as a matter of fact, Mr. Dill, catching sight of him
there, had thrown the men and their importunities off as though they
had been rough-mannered boys. He literally plowed his way through them
and stopped deprecatingly before Billy.

"It is getting late," he observed, mildly reproachful. "I thought I
would show you the way to my room, if you don't mind."

Billy stared down at him. "Well, I'm going to be busy for a while
yet," he demurred. "I've got to lick this misguided son-of-a-gun
that's blatting around wanting to eat me alive--and I got my eyes on
your friend in the rear, there, that's saying words about you, Dilly.
Looks to me like I'm going to be some occupied for quite a spell. You
run along to bed and don't yuh bother none about _me_."

"The matter is not so urgent but what I can wait until you are ready,"
Mr. Dill told him quietly, but with decision. He folded his long arms
and ranged himself patiently alongside Billy. And Billy, regarding him
uneasily, felt convinced that though he tarried until the sun
returned Mr. Dill would stand right there and wait--like a well-broken
range-horse when the reins are dropped to the ground. Charming Billy
did not know why it made him uncomfortable, but it did and he took
immediate measures to relieve the sensation.

He turned fretfully and cuffed the clamorous sheepherder, who
seemed to lack the heart for actual hostilities but indulged in much
recrimination and was almost in tears. "Aw, shut up!" growled Billy.