"Why," the old woman said, stepping closer to the group of boys,
"that's Buck!"

A heavily-built man with a scraggly beard stepped away from the
corral and approached the group by the fire, his stubby fingers
twining in and out of his unkempt whiskers as he walked along, his
eyes fixed on the fire and those about it.

"That's Buck Skypole," the old woman went on, as the advancing figure
stopped. "I didn't know you was to come after me Buck," she added,
speaking to the new-comer.

"I 'lowed you'd be right skeered of the dark," the man answered, "so
I 'lowed I'd come on up an' tote you home."

He rubbed his left thigh carefully for a moment and then spoke to
Ned.

"That's a right pert mule," he said.

"Did Uncle Ike kick you?" asked Jack, nudging Oliver in the ribs with
an elbow. "We'll have to wallop him a bit, if he did."

"I reckon I ain't got no mad at the creeter," Buck replied. "A man
must keep out'n reach of a mule. Seein' the mule's got only a few
feet of play in his laigs, he ought to be able to do that! No; I
ain't goin' to recommend no beatin's f'r the mule!"