longer. I grabbed the whip and lit into that team, and they
tore up the hill like jack-rabbits, them damned melons
bouncing out the back every jump, the old man cussin' an'
yellin' behind and everybody laughin'. I never looked be-
hind, but the whole of Capitol Hill must have been a mess
with them squashed melons. I didn't stop the team till I
got out of sight of town. Then I pulled up an' left 'em with
a rancher I was acquainted with, and I never went home to
get the lickin' that was waitin' for me. I expect it's waitin'
for me yet."

Thea rolled over in the sand. "Oh, I wish I could have
seen those melons fly, Ray! I'll never see anything as
funny as that. Now, tell Johnny about your first job."

Ray had a collection of good stories. He was observant,
truthful, and kindly--perhaps the chief requisites in a
good story-teller. Occasionally he used newspaper phrases,
conscientiously learned in his efforts at self-instruction, but
when he talked naturally he was always worth listening to.
Never having had any schooling to speak of, he had, almost
from the time he first ran away, tried to make good his loss.
As a sheep-herder he had worried an old grammar to tatters,

and read instructive books with the help of a pocket dic-
tionary. By the light of many camp-fires he had pondered
upon Prescott's histories, and the works of Washington
Irving, which he bought at a high price from a book-agent.