him, was reclining upon a blanket, staring into
the flames and conjuring up in their leaping
tongues numerous soothing pictures. As he sat
there the man with the beard suddenly addressed
him.

"Doc," he drawled, removing his pipe from between
whiskers that glinted in the light of the fire,
"now that you've got him, what are you thinking
of doing with that horse?"

"I'll take him back," replied Stephen, pleasantly.

The other was silent. "Shore!" he rejoined,
after a moment. "But take him back where?"

"Where he belongs."

There was further silence. "Excuse me!" finally
exclaimed the other. "I was thinking as mebbe
you'd take him whence he came."

Stephen sat erect and looked at the other. He
was smoking again complacently.

"Whence come you?" asked Stephen, after a
time.

The other slowly removed his pipe. Then he
told him. Then Stephen spoke. And then the
man rose stiffly, crossed solemnly to him and
shook hands with him cordially.

"I knowed you was white the fust day I see
you," he declared. Then he waved a vague hand
over the others. "They've all -- all of 'em -- traveled
that way. I was raised--

A sudden shrill scream out in the darkness
interrupted him. It was a horse. The cry stirred
the entire camp. The Professor arose, sauntered
out, whistling, whirled, and called back sharply.

[[220]]

p219 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p220w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p221

v?