"King Colt is all right, Whitby, when you _know_ who to loose him at," declared Buck, turning toward the door to the kitchen. "Jake! Jake!" he called. The sharp, incisive tones told their story and brought buoyancy to the cook, for he was on his feet, across the kitchen, and into the dining-room in apparently one movement, which astounded the soul of that culinary devotee when leisure gave time for reflection. "Why, Jake, I believe yo ’re gettin’ to be almost a human, livin’ creature," remarked Buck. "I never saw you move so fast before. It ain’t pay day now, you know." "Shore I know, but next _week is_," grinned Jake, not quite catching the meaning. "Oh, I ’m glad you do," sighed Buck with relief. "Now as long as you ain’t sufferin’ no hallucernations, suppose you tell Ned to come in here. You need n’t tell _him_—he knows it ain’t, too." "Knows what ain’t?" demanded Jake, his fingers slowly ploughing through his mass of hair. "If I need n’t tell him, what do you want me to tell him for?" "Be calm, Jake, be calm," replied Buck, raising a warning finger. "There are _two_ tells in this; one you must, th’ other you need n’t." "Ah, go to h—l an’ tell him yourself," retorted Jake, backing toward a handy chair so as not to be without a weapon. "You tell Ned I want to see him—I ’ll explain th’ second tell later. Now—_Will_ y’u tell?" Jake backed into the kitchen, slammed shut the door behind him, and lost no time in getting to the bunkhouse. "Hey, Ned," he blurted out, "th’ boss says to tell you he wants to see you. Th’ second tell can wait till later. William Tell?" "What t’ell!" snorted Bow-Wow, arising. "You another?" demanded the cook; then he fled, Ned following more leisurely. Bow-Wow looked at Murray inquiringly: "What did he mean by William Tell?" Murray put down his mended riding gear. "Why, don’t you know?" "Shore; what is it?" sarcastically responded Bow-Wow. "If I knew, do you think I ’d tell?" "Well I know, all right. It’s what he was brought up on, Bow-Wow." "Huh! Did you know him when he was a kid?" "Shore! He used to live in th’ next street in th’ same town, or was it in some other town?" he mused, thoughtfully. "H—l, that don’t make no difference, ’cause he lived in th’ next street. See?" "No; I don’t; not a d—d bit!" "Bow-Wow, if I was as thick as you get sometimes, I ’d drink lots of water an’ thin down a bit. This is th’ story of William Tell, an’ I ’ll tell it to you if you won’t tell: When he was a kid he had a awful yearnin’ for apples, like you has for cheap whiskey, Bow-Wow. Nothin’ else suited him an’ th’ bigger he got th’ more apples he had to eat. All th’ farmers was a-layin’ for him with guns, so what did li’l Willie do? Why, he shot ’em down with a bow an’ arrer. An’ that’s why he can throw a stone so straight to-day. _Now_ do you see?"