you can spare us a few blankets and a pillow," earnestly said the boy,
"we'll take the wounded man. He's liable to be feverish at night, and
ought to have a pillow. Joel and I can sleep outside or in the stable."

"Hurrah for the Wells boys!" shouted the trail boss. "Hereafter I'll bet
my money, horse and saddle, on a red-headed boy. Blankets? Why, you can
have half a dozen, and as to pillows, watch me rob the outfit. I have a
rubber one, there are several moss ones, and I have a lurking suspicion
that there are a few genuine goose-hair pillows in the outfit, and you
may pick and choose. They are all yours for the asking."

The men parleyed around some little time, offering pretexts for entering
the shack, the interior of which bespoke its own poverty. When all
agreements had been reviewed, the men mounted their horses, promising to
fulfill their part of the covenant that afternoon or evening.

Once out of hearing, the stranger remarked: "That oldest boy is all
right; it was their poverty that caused him to hesitate; he tried to
shield their want. We men don't always understand boys. Hereafter, in
dealing with Joel, you must use some diplomacy. The death of his parents
has developed a responsibility in the older boy which the younger one
doesn't feel. That's about all the difference in the two lads. You must
deal gently with Joel, and never offend him or expose his needs."

"Trust me," replied the foreman, "and I'll coach Quince--that's the name
of the wounded man. Within an hour, he'll be right at home with those
boys. If nothing serious happens to his wound, within a week he'll have
those youngsters walking on clouds."

The two men rode out of the valley, when they caught sight of a dust