"Of course not," answered Bud, looking across at her boldly. "Why should you be--you ain't afraid of nothing!" "Is that a compliment?" she demanded eagerly. "Oh, then I'm so happy--it's the first you ever paid me! But _have_ I been brave," she beamed, "so far? Have I been brave, like a man?" "Sure have!" remarked Hooker impersonally, "but we ain't there yet. Only thing I don't like about you is you don't eat enough. Say, don't pick up them crumbs--let me pare off some more of this jerked beef for you. Can't nobody be brave when they're hungry, you know, and I want to bring you in safe." "Why?" she inquired, as she accepted the handful of meat. "Is it on Phil's account?" she ventured, as he sat gazing stoically at the horses. "You were such friends, weren't you?" she went on innocently. "Oh, that is why I admire the Americans so much--they are so true to each other!" "Yes," observed Hooker, rolling his eyes on her, "we're fine that way!" "Well, I mean it!" she insisted, as she read the irony in his glance. "Sure! So do I!" answered Hooker, and Gracia continued her meal in silence. "My!" she said at last; "this meat is good! Tell me, how did you happen to have it on your saddle? We left so suddenly, you know!" She gazed up at him demurely, curious to see how he would evade this evidence that he had prepared in advance for their ride. But once more, as he had always done, Hooker eluded the cunningly laid snare. "I was figuring on pulling out myself," he replied ingenuously. "What? And not take me?" she cried. "Oh, I thought--but dear me, what is the use?" She sighed and drooped her head wearily. "I am so tired!" she murmured despondently. "Shall we be going on soon?" "Not unless somebody jumps us," returned Bud. "Here, let me make you a bed in the shade. There now"--as he spread out the saddle-blankets temptingly--"you lay down and get some sleep and I'll kinder keep a watch." "Ah, you are so kind!" she breathed, as she sank down on the bed. "Don't you know," she added, looking up at him with sleepy eyes that half concealed a smile, "I believe you like me, after all." "Sure," confessed Bud, returning her smile as honestly; "don't you worry none about me--I like you fine." He slipped away at this, grinning to himself, and sat down to watch the plain. All about him lay the waving grass land, tracked up by the hoofs of cattle that had vanished in the track of war. In the distance he could see the line of a fence and the ruins of a house. The trail which he had followed led on and on to the north. But all the landscape was vacant, except for his grazing horses. Above the mountains the midday thunder-caps were beginning to form; the air was very soft and warm, and--He woke up suddenly to find his head on his knees. "Ump-um-m," he muttered, rising up and shaking himself resolutely, "this won't do--that sun is making me sleepy."