with a bitten lip, and reaching for his saddle pommel, as if to remount
his pony; but "Miss Sally" touched his arm and said, laughingly, "Come
now. Marquis; that was quite a compliment from Saunders. It's that
distinguished air of yours and aristocratic nose that made him call you
that."

He began to unsaddle, and the Marquis, restored to equanimity, followed
his example. Rolling up his sleeves, Miss Sally sprang for the grub
wagon, shouting: "I'm the new cook b'thunder! Some of you chaps rustle a
little wood for a fire, and I'll guarantee you a hot square meal inside
of thirty minutes." Miss Sally's energy and good-humor, as he ransacked
the grub wagon for coffee, flour, and bacon, won the good opinion of the
camp instantly.

And also, in days following, the Marquis, after becoming better
acquainted, proved to be a cheerful, pleasant fellow, always a little
reserved, and taking no part in the rough camp frolics; but the boys
gradually came to respect this reserve--which fitted the title Saunders
had given him--and even to like him for it. Saunders had assigned him to
a place holding the herd during the cuttings. He proved to be a skilful
rider and as good with the lariat or in the branding pen as most of
them.

The Marquis and Miss Sally grew to be quite close comrades. After supper
was over, and everything cleaned up, you would generally find them
together, Miss Sally smoking his brier-root pipe, and the Marquis
plaiting a quirt or scraping rawhide for a new pair of hobbles.

The superintendent did not forget his promise to keep an eye on the
cook. Several times, when visiting the camp, he held long talks with