“Yu' see,” said Lin, “they've been told about Ten Sleep being burned two nights ago.” “It ain't!” cried Tommy. “Why, of course it ain't,” drawled the ingenious Lin. “But that's what I say. You and I know Ten Sleep's all right, but we can't report from our own knowledge seeing it all right, and there it is. They get these nervous notions.” “Just don't appear to make anything special of not going back to Riverside,” repeated Taylor, “but--” “But just kind of stay here,” said Lin. “I will!” exclaimed Tommy. “Of course, I'm glad to oblige.” I suppose I was slow-sighted. All this pains seemed to me larger than its results. They had imposed upon Tommy, yes. But what of that? He was to be kept from going back to Riverside until morning. Unless they proposed to visit his empty cabin and play tricks--but that would be too childish, even for Lin McLean, to say nothing of the Virginian, his occasional partner in mischief. “In spite of the Crows,” I satirically told the ladies, “I shall sleep outside, as I intended. I've no use for houses at this season.” The cinches of the horses were tightened, Lin and the Virginian laid a hand on their saddle-horns, swung up, and soon all sound of the galloping horses had ceased. Molly Wood declined to be nervous and crossed to her little neighbor cabin; we all parted, and (as always in that blessed country) deep sleep quickly came to me. I don't know how long after it was that I sprang from my blankets in half-doubting fright. But I had dreamed nothing. A second long, wild yell now gave me (I must own to it) a horrible chill. I had no pistol--nothing. In the hateful brightness of the moon my single thought was “House! House!” and I fled across the lane in my underclothes to the cabin, when round the corner whirled the two cow-punchers, and I understood. I saw the Virginian catch sight of me in my shirt, and saw his teeth as he smiled. I hastened to my blankets, and returned more decent to stand and watch the two go shooting and yelling round the cabin, crazy with their youth. The door was opened, and Taylor courageously emerged, bearing a Winchester. He fired at the sky immediately. “B' gosh!” he roared. “That's one.” He fired again. “Out and at 'em. They're running.” At this, duly came Mrs. Taylor in white with a pistol, and Miss Peck in white, staring and stolid. But no Tommy. Noise prevailed without, shots by the stable and shots by the creek. The two cow-punchers dismounted and joined Taylor. Maniac delight seized me, and I, too, rushed about with them, helping the din. “Oh, Mr. Taylor!” said a voice. “I didn't think it of you.” It was Molly Wood, come from her cabin, very pretty in a hood-and-cloak arrangement. She stood by the fence, laughing, but more at us than with us. “Stop, friends!” said Taylor, gasping. “She teaches my Bobbie his A B C. I'd hate to have Bobbie--” “Speak to your papa,” said Molly, and held her scholar up on the fence.