"Did n’t I tell you to dig them ditches close to where th’ Blackfoot empties into th’ Jack?" demanded Buck. "Are you figgerin’ on extendin’ it from here to there? I don’t want a trench no fifteen miles long. To-morrow mornin’ you ride with me an’ I ’ll show you where to dig. An’ don’t you bother stakin’ it off exact, neither. I want them ditches all finished in _three_ days. Did you reckon I was goin’ to drive two thousand head of itch cows fifteen miles so I could dip ’em bang up agin my own front door!" Pickles bounced in, his rifle under his arm. "Hullo, Buck!" he cried. "Shot a coyote to-day!" "Good, Pickles," smiled Buck. "Want a job shootin’ a _man_ to-morrow?" "Betcher life! Is it Dave?" "No, it’s Jake, here," replied Buck. "You take yore rifle an’ come with me an’ Jake to-morrow. If he don’t dig fast enough to suit you, you shoot him in th’ laig." "Betcher life! Which leg?" asked Pickles, agog with anticipation. "I ’m leavin’ that to you, Pickles. You ’re gettin’ big enough to figger things out for yoreself." "Will he limp like Hopalong?" "Worse, mebby." Jake, grinning, feared Pickles might be carried away with his zeal, and he put in a laughing objection; but he sobered instantly at Buck’s sharp reply. "I mean it. He ’ll shoot if he ’s a friend o’ mine. I ain’t goin’ to lose a lot of cows ’cause I ’ve got a man too lazy to dig. You ’ve got yore orders, Pickles: obey ’em like a real Bar-20 puncher." "Betcher life I will. Just like Hopalong Cassidy!" Jake groaned at the intense earnestness in Pickles’ declaration; to emulate the great Hopalong Cassidy was enduring honor in Pickles’ eyes, and from past performances and several duels with the boy, Jake reached the conclusion that he was slated to do some very rapid digging on the morrow. "Lemme use _yore_ rifle, Buck!" asked Pickles, his eyes shining with the joy of living. He knew he could do a great deal better with Buck’s repeater, and the thought of exploding .45-70 cartridges was a delight beyond his wildest dreams. Jake’s heart stopped for the reply and he sighed with relief as Pickles’ face fell; but the boy’s spirits rose like a balloon. "All right, Buck; I can get him with my gun, though I ought to have a repeater." * * * * *