"That dog bosses me around somethin' scandalous," Bud was wont to remark, as he rose from his labors and prepared for bed. "There I was huntin' around for that chord I lit on the other night and almost findin' it, when he has to howl like a coyote with a sore throat and spile the whole thing. I ought to learned more tunes." * * * * * It was almost dusk when Lorry topped the trail that led across the Blue Mesa to Bud's cabin. Gray Leg pricked his ears, and jogged over the wide level, heading straight for the corral. The cabin was dark. Lorry hallooed. A horse in the corral answered, nickering shrilly. Lorry found some loose gramma grass in the stable and threw it to the horse. If this was Shoop's place, Shoop would not be gone long, or he'd have turned the horse to graze on the open mesa. Lorry entered and lighted the lamp. He gazed with astonishment at the piano. But that could wait. He was hungry. In a few minutes he had a fire going, plates laid for two, had made coffee and cut bacon. He was mixing the dough for hot biscuit when he heard some one ride up. He stepped to the door. A bulky figure was pulling a saddle from a horse. Lorry called a greeting. "Just a minute, friend," came from the darkness. Lorry stepped to the kitchen, and put the biscuit pan in the oven. A saddle thumped on the veranda, and Bud Shoop, puffing heavily, strode in. He nodded, filled a basin, and washed. As he polished his bald spot, his glance traveled from the stove to the table, and thence to Lorry, and he nodded approval. "Looks like you was expectin' comp'ny," he said, smiling. "Yep. And chuck's about ready." "So am I," said Bud, rubbing his hands. "I'm Adams, from Stacey." "That don't make me mad," said Bud. "How's things over to your town?" "All right, I guess. Mr. Torrance--" Bud waved his hand. "Let's eat. Been out since daylight. Them biscuits is just right. Help yourself to the honey." "There's somebody outside," said Lorry, his arm raised to pass the honey jar. "That's my dog, Bondsman. He had to size up your layout, and he's through and waitin' to size up you. Reckon he's hungry, too. But business before pleasure is his idea mostly. He's tellin' me to let him in. That there dog bosses me around somethin' scandalous. When did you get in?" "About sundown." "Uh-uh. I seen that your horse hadn't grazed out far yet. How do you like this country?" "Good summer country, all right. Too high for stock in winter." "Yes. Four feet of snow on the mesa last winter. When you say 'Arizona' to some folks, they don't think of snow so deep a hoss can't get from the woods over there to this cabin." Bud Shoop sighed and rose. "Never mind them dishes. Mornin' 'll do." "Won't take a minute," said Lorry.