on that!"

The two men grasped each other's hands.

"And he's no fool, either," continued Demorest. "When we met Steptoe on
the road, without a word from me, he closed up alongside, with his hand
on the lock of his rifle. And I hadn't the heart to praise him or laugh
it off."

Nevertheless they were both silent as the object of their criticism
bounded down the trail towards them. He had seen the funeral pyre. It
was awfully sad, it was awfully lovely, but there was something grand
in it! Who could have thought Stacy could be so poetic? But he wanted to
tell them something else that was mighty pretty.

"What was it?" said Demorest.

"Well," said Barker, "don't laugh! But you know that Jack Hamlin? Well,
boys, he's been hovering around us on his mustang, keeping us and that
pack-mule in sight ever since we left. Sometimes he's on a side trail
off to the right, sometimes off to the left, but always at the same
distance. I didn't like to tell you, boys, for I thought you'd laugh
at me; but I think, you know, he's taken a sort of shine to us since he
dropped in last night. And I fancy, you see, he's sort of hanging round
to see that we get along all right. I'd have pointed him out before
only I reckoned you and Stacy would say he was making up to us for our
money."

"And we'd have been wrong, Barker boy," said Stacy, with a heartiness
that surprised Demorest, "for I reckon your instinct's the right one."