Shorty ducked, to pop up again in a second, and the movement was greeted by a reverberating bray from Rudolph. The mule seemed to enjoy the game, too. He brayed and he brayed, as Shorty ducked out of sight and then popped up again in a man-and-mule game of “I spy!” Rudolph seemed content to die proclaiming his amusement to the world of barren snow and ice. “That’s right, yuh blamed fool mule,” cried Shorty, “laugh at me! I’m a fool, too, I reckon. Us fools must play!” And with that Shorty resumed his jack-in-the-box antics, while Rudolph grew hoarse in his merriment. An hour and Shorty’s movements had slowed down a bit, but not so Rudolph’s. He was wheezy now, and rather incoherent, but he still blared forth a husky bray at every opportunity. “Hee-ee-ee haw!” he roared. “H-a-aaa-aw he-ee-e haw, haw, hee-ee-ee-ee haw!” “Laugh, yuh fool!” When Shorty ducked again he sat on his haunches longer than usual under the snow, scratching at the surface of the rock on which he was perched, endeavoring to discover the character of the formation, cliff, river rock, or what, and while so engaged he heard Rudolph blare forth another hoarse trumpeting, although he had not popped up. The mule was getting anxious, thought Shorty. Well, to ease his fears---- Up went Shorty, stiff, but playful. Then he rubbed his eyes quickly. Up the slope, coming toward him, along a rope, were three black figures. Rudolph had spotted them and had given them a welcoming bray and he brayed again now just in time to drown out Shorty’s hoarse shout of happiness. It was Sheriff Joe Cook and two Monte Vista men! Down they came, floundering and skidding, but secure along the rope. They made their way slowly to Shorty, and Shorty saw that there were other men up on the trail, holding the rope and leaning over to watch the progress of the sheriff and his two aides. Shorty stifled a great sob, and tears welled up into his eyes as Sheriff Cook, navigating the great drift between the mule and Shorty, reached the rock. In a moment the other two men were on the rock. “Thank goodness, yuh come!” cried Shorty, blubbering like a kid. “I sure had my mind all made up to die here in the snow, with nothin’ but a mule for company.” “Yuh sure got inter a nice mess,” commented the sheriff, and Shorty realized that in the joyous prospect of being rescued he had forgotten that he had been held up and had lost three thousand dollars of the Consolidated mines pay roll. He wilted at the thought of it now. “Yes sir,” admitted Shorty, “I sure did get into a nice mess. How did yuh happen to start up the trail?” Sheriff Cook clutched him by the shoulders. “That hoss o’ yuhrs, Shorty, that Lobo Loco, he came tearin’ in afore dawn this mawnin’, runnin’ like the wind itself.” Shorty’s face lit up. “So he got away, did he?” he cried. “Smart hoss. Blamed smart hoss--smarter’n any fool mule.” Shorty cast a contemptuous glance at Rudolph.