Chapter 16. "A Rell Old Cowpuncher" - Page 2

and holler, and the Echo-boy would holler back The Kid was not afraid-- but there seemed to be an awful lot of Echo-boys down in these hills. They were quiet after a minute or so, and he did not call again.

The Kid was six, and he was big for his age; but he looked very little, there alone in that deep coulee that was really more like a canyon--very little and lonesome and as if he needed his Doctor Dell to take him on her lap and rock him. It was just about the time of day when Doctor Dell always rocked him and told him stories--about the Happy Family, maybe. The Kid hated to be suspected of baby ways, but he loved these tunes, when his legs were tired and his eyes wanted to go shut, and Doctor Dell laid her cheek on his hair and called him her baby man. Nobody knew about these times-- that was most always in the bed room and the boys couldn't hear.

The Kid's lips quivered a little. Doctor Dell would be surprised when he didn't show up for supper, he guessed. He turned to Silver and to his man ways, because he did not like to think about Doctor Dell just right now.

"Well, old feller, I guess you want your saddle off, huh?" he quavered, and slapped the horse upon the shoulder . He lifted the stirrup--it was a little stock saddle, with everything just like a big saddle except the size; Daddy Chip had had it made for the Kid in Cheyenne, last Christmas--and began to undo the latigo, whistling self-consciously and finding that his lips kept trying to come unpuckered all the time, and trying to tremble just the way they did when he cried. He had no intention of crying.

"Gee! I always wanted to camp out and watch the stars," he told Silver stoutly. "Honest to gran'ma, I think this is just--simply--great! I bet them nester kids would be scared. Hunh!"

That helped a lot. The Kid could whistle better after that. He pulled of the saddle, laid it down on its side so that the skirts would not bend out of shape--oh, he had been well- taught, with the whole Happy Family for his worshipful tutors!--and untied the rope from beside the fork. "I'll have to anchor you to a tree, old-timer," he told the horse briskly. "I'd sure hate to be set afoot in this man's country!" And a minute later--"Oh, funder! I never brought you any sugar!"

Would you believe it, that small child of the Flying U picketed his horse where the grass was best, and the knots he tied were the knots his dad would have tied in his place. He unrolled his blanket and carried it to the sheltered little nook under the ledge, and dragged the bag of doughnuts and the jelly and honey and bread after it. He had heard about thievish animals that will carry off bacon and flour and such. He knew that he ought to hang his grub in a tree, but he could not reach up as far as the fox who might try to help himself, so that was out of the question.

The Kid ate a doughnut while