Ascertaining that the barnyard was vacant, Merton immediately became
attentive to his charge. Throughout the late drive his attitude had
been one of mild but contemptuous abuse. More than once he had
uttered the words "old skate" in tones of earnest conviction, and
with the worn end of the whip he had cruelly tickled the still
absurdly sensitive sides. Had beating availed he would with no
compunction have beaten the drooping wreck. But now, all at once, he
was curiously tender. He patted the shoulder softly, put both arms
around the bony neck, and pressed his face against the face of
Dexter. A moment he stood thus, then spoke in a tear-choked voice:

"Good-by, old pal--the best, the truest pal a man ever had. You and
me has seen some tough times, old pard; but you've allus brought me
through without a scratch; allus brought me through." There was a
sob in the speaker's voice, but he manfully recovered a clear tone
of pathos. "And now, old pal, they're a-takin' ye from me--yes, we
got to part, you an' me. I'm never goin' to set eyes on ye agin. But
we got to be brave, old pal; we got to keep a stiff upper lip--no
cryin' now; no bustin' down."

The speaker unclasped his arms and stood with head bowed, his face
working curiously, striving to hold back the sobs.

For Merton Gill was once more Clifford Armytage, popular idol of the
screen, in his great role of Buck Benson bidding the accustomed
farewell to his four-footed pal that had brought him safely through
countless dangers. How are we to know that in another couple of
hundred feet of the reel Buck will escape the officers of the law
who have him for that hold-up of the Wallahoola stage--of which he