Smiler had sniffed the floor of the empty house, the empty stables, the
corral. His folks were going somewhere. Well, he was ready.

Little Jim, who had been gazing wistfully at Smiler, suddenly strode to
his pack and sat down. He bit his lips. Tears welled to his eyes and
drifted slowly down his cheeks. He had not intended to let himself
weep--but there was Smiler, wagging his thick tail, waiting to go.

"I g-g-guess you better go ahead and hit the trail, dad."

"Why, that's what we're going to do. What--" Big Jim glanced at his boy.
"What's the matter?"

Little Jim did not answer, but his attitude spoke for itself. He had
decided to stay with Smiler.

Big Jim frowned. It was the first time that the boy had ever openly
rebelled. And because it was the first time, Big Jim realized its
significance. Yet, such loyalty, even to a dog, was worth while.

Big Jim put his hand on Little Jim's shoulder. "Smiler'll get sore feet
on the trails, Jimmy. And there won't be a whole lot to eat."

Little Jim blinked up at his father. "Well, he can have half of my grub,
and I reckon I can pack him on the saddle with me if his feet get
tender."

"All right. But don't blame me if Smiler peters out on the trip."

"Smiler's tough, he is!" stated Little Jim. "He's so tough he bites barb