“Oh, for years. Ever since I was a little fellow. He took me after my father and mother died of yellow fever in New Orleans. His wife hates me too, but they have to have me in the show.” “Then I guess you had better quit their company. What’s your name?” “Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names.” “Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?” “Where he wouldn’t know I was?” whispered the boy eagerly. “If you like. I know a ranch where you’d be right welcome.” “I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try to pay my way, and I don’t eat much,” Frank cried, his eyes as appealing as a homeless puppy’s. Bucky smiled. “I expect they can stand all you eat without going to the poorhouse. It’s a bargain then. I’ll take you out there to-morrow.” “You’re so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before.” Tears stood in the big eyes and splashed over. “Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act like a man,” advised his new friend brusquely. “I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn’t ask me to go with you. I—I can’t tell you anything more than that,” the youngster sobbed. “Oh, well. What’s the diff? You’re making a new start to-day. Ain’t that right?” “Yes, sir.” “Call me Bucky.” “Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean.” A hand fell on the ranger’s shoulder and a voice in his ear. “Young man, I want you.” The lieutenant whirled like a streak of lightning, finger on trigger already. “I’ll trouble you for yore warrant, seh,” he retorted. The man confronting him was the big cattleman who had entered the Silver Dollar in time to see O’Connor’s victory over the showman. Now he stood serenely under Bucky’s gun and laughed. “Put up your .45, my friend. It’s a peaceable conference I want with you.” The level eyes of the young man fastened on those of the cattleman, and, before he spoke again, were satisfied. For both of these men belonged to the old West whose word is as good as its bond, that West which will go the limit for a cause once under taken without any thought of retreat, regardless of the odds or the letter of the law. Though they had never met before, each knew at a glance the manner of man the other was. “All right, seh. If you want me I reckon I’m here large as life,” the ranger said, “We’ll adjourn to the poker room upstairs then, Mr. O’Connor.” Bucky laid a hand on the shoulder of the boy. “This kid goes with me. I’m keeping an eye on him for the present.” “My business is private, but I expect that can be arranged. We’ll take the inner room and let him have the outer.” “Good enough. Break trail, seh. Come along, Frank.” Having reached the poker room upstairs, that same private room which had seen many a big game in its day between the big cattle kings and mining men of the Southwest, Bucky’s host ordered refreshments and then unfolded his business. “You don’t know me, lieutenant, do you?” “I haven’t that pleasure, seh.”