Part 43 (1/2)

”No! No! Don't you think of it!” cried the man from the tent door.

”He will attack us.”

Kalman stepped forward, and beating the dogs from their quarry, drew his pistol and shot the beast through the head.

”Get back, Captain! Back! Back! I say. Down!”

With difficulty he drew the wolf from the jaws of the eager hounds, and swung it into the wagon out of the dogs' reach.

”My word!” exclaimed the young man, leaping from the wagon with precipitate haste. ”What are you doing?”

”He won't hurt you, sir. He is dead.”

The young man's red, chubby face, out of which peered his little round eyes, his red hair standing in a disordered halo about his head, his strange attire, with trailing braces and tag-ends of his night-robe hanging about his person, made a picture so weirdly funny that the girl went off into peals of laughter.

”Marjorie! Marjorie!” cried an indignant voice, ”what are ye daein'

there? Tak' shame to yersel', ye hizzie.”

Marjorie turned in the direction of the voice, and again her peals of laughter burst forth. ”Oh! Aunt Janet, you do look so funny.”

But at once the head with its aureole of curl-papers was whipped inside the tent.

”Ye're no that fine to look at yersel', ye shameless la.s.sie,”

cried Aunt Janet.

With a swift motion the girl put her hand to her head, gathered her garments about her, and fled to the cover of her tent, leaving Kalman and the young man together, the latter in a state of indignant wrath, for no man can bear with equanimity the ridicule of a maiden whom he is especially anxious to please.

”By Jove, sir!” he exclaimed. ”What the deuce did you mean, running your confounded dogs into a camp like that?”

Kalman heard not a word. He was standing as in a dream, gazing upon the tent into which the girl had vanished. Ignoring the young man, he got his horse and mounted, and calling his dogs, rode off up the trail.

”h.e.l.lo there!” cried Harris, the engineer, after him. Kalman reined up. ”Do you know where I can get any oats?”

”Yes,” said Kalman, ”up at our ranch.”

”And where is that?”

”Ten miles from here, across the Night Hawk Creek.” Then, as if taking a sudden resolve, ”I'll bring them down to you this afternoon. How much do you want?”

”Twenty-five bushels would do us till we reach the construction camp.”

”I'll bring them to-day,” said Kalman, riding away, his dogs limping after him.

In a few moments the girl came out of the tent. ”Oh!” she cried to the engineer, ”is he gone?”

”Yes,” said Harris, ”but he'll be back this afternoon. He is going to bring me some oats.” His smile brought a quick flush to the girl's cheeks.

”Oh! has he?” she said, with elaborate indifference. ”What a lovely morning! It's wonderful for so late in the year. You have a splendid country here, Mr. Harris.”

”That's right,” he said; ”and the longer you stay in it, the better you like it. You'll be going to settle in it yourself some day.”

”I'm not so sure about that,” cried the girl, with a deeper blush, and a saucy toss of her head. ”It is a fine country, but it's no'

Scotland, ye ken, as my Aunt would say. My! but I'm fair starving.”