vague ancestry, a rough-coated, yellow dog that belonged solely to
Little Jim. Smiler stuck so closely to Little Jim that their shadows
were veritably one. Smiler was a sort of chuckle-headed, good-natured
animal, meek, so long as Little Jim's prerogatives were not infringed
upon, but a cyclone of yellow wrath if Little Jim were approached by any
one in other than a friendly spirit. Even when Big Jim "roughed" his
small son, in fun, Smiler grew nervous and bristled, and once, when the
mother had smacked Little Jim for some offense or other, Smiler had
taken sides to the extent of jumping between the mother and the boy,
ready to do instant battle if his young partner were struck again.

"I'm afraid we can't take Smiler with us," said Big Jim, as Little Jim
scurried about next morning, getting ready for the great adventure.

Little Jim stopped as though he had run against a rope. He had not even
dreamed but that Smiler would go with them.

Now, Little Jim had not forgathered with punchers and townsfolk for
nothing. He was naturally shrewd, and he did not offer or controvert
opinions hastily. He stood holding a bit of old tie-rope in his hand,
pondering this last unthinkable development of the situation. Smiler was
to be left behind. Jimmy wanted to ask why Smiler could not go. He
wanted to assure his father that Smiler would be a help rather than a
hindrance to the expedition.

Little Jim knew that if he wept, his father might pay some attention to
that sort of plea. But Little Jim did not intend to weep, nor ask
questions, nor argue. Smiler stood expectantly watching the
preparations. He knew that something important was about to happen, and,
with the loyalty of his kind, he was ready to follow, no matter where.