The other’s mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the slim, dusky young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him and began to pound his body with jovial fists. “You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your Uncle Mick and make him think you a greaser, would you? I’ll learn yez to play horse with a fullgrown, able-bodied white man.” He punctuated his points with short-arm jolts that Bucky laughingly parried. “Before ladies, Mick! Haven’t you forgot your manners, Red-haid?” Swiftly Mr. O’Halloran came to flushed rigidity. “Madam, I must still be apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to me head, I shouldn’t wonder.” Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. “Get into the other room, Curly, and get your other togs on,” he ordered. “Can’t you see that Mick is going to fall in love with you if he sees you a minute longer, you young rascal? Hike!” “Don’t you talk that way to a lady, Bucky,” warned O’Halloran, again blushing vividly, after she had disappeared into the next room. “And I want to let yez have it right off the bat that if you’ve been leading that little Mexican señorita into trouble you’ve got a quarrel on with Mike O’Halloran.” “Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging her any?” “Are you married to her?” “You bet I ain’t. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you’re going to lick the stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy young boy, after all.” “No!” denied Mick, his eyes two excited interrogation-points. “You can’t stuff me with any such fairy-tale, me lad.” “All right. Wait and see,” suggested the ranger easily. “Have a smoke while you’re falling out of love.” “You young limb, I want you to tell me all about it this very minute, before I punch holes in yez.” Bucky lit his cigar, leaned back, and began to tell the story of Frank Hardman and the knife-thrower. Only one thing he omitted to tell, and that was the conviction that had come home to him a few moments ago that his little comrade was no boy, but a woman. O’Halloran was a chivalrous Irishman, a daredevil of an adventurer, with a pure love of freedom that might very likely in the end bring him to face a row of loaded carbines with his back to a wall, but Bucky had his reticencies that even loyal friendship could not break down. This girl’s secret he meant to guard until such time as she chose of her own free will to tell it. Frank returned just as he finished the tale of the knife episode, and Mick’s frank open eyes accused him of idiocy for ever having supposed that this lad was a woman. Why, he was a little fellow not over fifteen—not a day past fifteen, he would swear to that. He was, to be sure, a slender, girlish young fellow, a good deal of a sissy by the look of him, but none the less a sure enough boy. Convinced of this, the big Irishman dismissed him promptly from his thoughts and devoted himself to Bucky.