"Why," Jack answered, "you may as well keep them here. I have my own and don't need any more. I think the pair that Davis wore ought to belong to Bess." Powell smiled. "Well, maybe they ought to. I guess we'll keep those here, but the one you took from the young man you might as well keep." "All right," said Jack, "I will; but of course I don't want to pack it around with me now. This one I am carrying came from a horse thief. Do you remember that time four or five years ago when we ran into a bunch of stolen stock on the Sweet Water, and Hugh killed black Bob Dowling? Hugh gave me his pistols, and ever since then I have worn one of them whenever I was in a place where I carried a pistol." The house this morning looked more cheerful than it had the afternoon before. Mrs. Powell and Bess were bright and smiling, and the breakfast was very good. Soon after the meal was over, Powell began the work of writing his letters by his daughter's hand. Jack went out and strolled about the barns and corrals, and killed time for several hours, and then coming back to the house, interrupted the letter writing by asking Powell if he could not get out the grub that was to be taken to the camp. "I wish you would," said Powell, "if you haven't anything to do. Mrs. Powell will show you where the stuff is, and all I want to take is a couple of sacks of flour and two slabs of bacon. You will find pack-saddles and riggings hanging up in the storeroom where the grub is, and if you feel like doing it, you might catch up that sorrel horse that you'll find in the pasture, the one with two white feet, and either tie him in the barn, or put him in the small corral, so that we can get him quick when we are ready to pack." "All right," answered Jack, "I'll do that. First I'll get out the grub and then I'll fix the saddle, and along just before dinner time I'll go down and get the horses and bring them up and put them in the corral. I don't know what horse you're going to ride." "I'll ride old Kate back again. You know her. She is the brown, with a bald face and one white hind foot. Bring them all up to the corral just before dinner, and then they'll be handy." It took Jack but a little time to get together the load for the pack horse and set it outside the storehouse; then he went to the barn, saddled up Pawnee and rode into Powell's small pasture where he got together the required horses, and drove them up to the corral. Dinner was not so cheerful a meal as breakfast had been. It seemed to Jack that the women felt a little nervous about losing their men folk, and before the meal was over this was so obvious that Powell spoke about it.