The Old Map knocked the ashes out of his pipe and went in to look at him.

"Did Weary say I got bucked off?" demanded the sick man before the Old
Man was fairly in the room. "If he did, he lied, that's all. I didn't
think Weary'd do me dirt like that--I thought he'd stand by me if anybody
would. He knows I wasn't throwed. I--"

"Here, young fellow," put in the Old Man, calmly, "don't yuh git t'
rampagin' around over nothin'! You turn over there an' go t' sleep."

"I'll be hanged if I will!" retorted Chip. "If Weary's taken to lying
about me I'll have it out with him if I break all the rest of my bones
doing it. Do you think I'm going to stand a thing like that? I'll
see--"

"Easy there, doggone it. I never heard Weary say't yuh got bucked off.
Whizzer turned over on his head, 's near as I c'd make out fer dust.
I took it he turned a summerset."

Chip's befogged brain caught at the last word.

"Yes, that's just what he did. It beats me how Weary could say, or even
think, that I--it was the jack rabbit first--and I told her the supply was
limited--and if we do furnish lots of amusement--but I guess I made her
understand I wasn't so easy as she took me to be. She--"

"Hey?" The Old Man could hardly be blamed for losing the drift of
Chip's rapid utterances.

"If we want to get them rounded up before the dance, I'll--it's a good