Peevey’s place nestled in a thicket of pine at the foot of a tall cliff. So like a very part of the forest it was that you could not see it until you were right on it. As they rode through the trees and came suddenly upon the cabin a boy darted away and disappeared behind a rock. “That’s Boy Peevey,” said Jami. “Ain’t it funny the way he runs like a deer whenever any one heaves in sight? He’s a reg’lar wild boy, ’fraid o’ no four-footed thing, but skeert at the sound of a human voice.” “Well, he’s never spoken to any one but his family, so that’s natural,” Raquel replied. She had known the Peeveys for years and remembered Boy had always been so. “Ma Peevey says he don’t hardly speak to his fam’ly no more,” said Russell. “Won’t talk to his Dad at all, don’t hardly speak to his sister, and won’t come for no one but his mother. He sets a lot o’ store by her.” They had reached the cabin and Old Man Peevey came out to meet them. He was a strange little man, gloomy and passionate by turns, whiskered up to his cap. “Fences down, gates open, cattle’s all in together,” was his greeting, in an accusing tone of voice. He was supposed to keep an eye on gates and fences. Russell was in an instant fury at the news and Raquel turned to question Peevey, but just then Mrs. Peevey came to the door, all aflutter to see Raquel, the Boss’s daughter. Mrs. Peevey called back as she came hurrying out, “Lena, come, here is Raquel Daniels.” Lena Peevey had sometimes been down at the Daniels ranch for a few days at a time, and she had been at school in Alamogordo one winter when her mother, who was a good cook, had taken a job in town. It had been a cold winter, bitter, and Mrs. Peevey had had to supply bacon and flour, and meal, as Pop had been laid up with the rheumatics, never setting foot out of the cabin all that winter. Lena came running now to see the visitors, her pimply face beaming with delight. They had dismounted, and leaving their horses to forage and find their way down into a little gully where ran a mountain stream, the three entered the cabin to warm themselves at the fire, while Mrs. Peevey and Lena bustled about getting something to eat. Within an hour a steaming meal was on the table. Rabbit stew--“Boy ketched ’em in his hands,” Mrs. Peevey said--hot biscuits, coffee with condensed milk. It was nearly four when Raquel started out again with Russell, Jami following with Pop Peevey. Some spite work, Pop thought, but it mought a been fall hunters layin’ down the barbed wire fer to let their cars through. Most likely that’s what it was, come to think of it. He’d aimed to get down last week and let Mr. Daniels know about it, didn’t know it hisself till then. Boy’d seen some o’ the Ranchos’ cattle on the lower slope when he was layin’ his traps. He’d had rheumatics ever since, though, an’ couldn’t stir. Jami winked and tilted his elbow behind Pop’s back. Peevey’s attacks of rheumatics were known to come from a bottle.