"The hell it ain't!" Pink was drawing off his coat to make a pillow. "You're hurt, somehow, ain't yuh?" "I'm--dying," the other said, laconically. "So yuh needn't go to any trouble, on my account. From the looks--yuh was headed for some--blowout. Go on, and let me be." The Happy Family looked at one another incredulously; they were so likely to ride on! "I guess you don't savvy this bunch, old-timer," said Weary calmly, speaking for the six. "We're going to do what we can. If yuh don't mind telling us where yuh got hurt--" The lips of the other curled bitterly. "I was shot," he said distinctly, "by the sheriff and his bunch. But I got away. Last night I tried to cross the creek, and my horse went on down. It was storming--fierce. I got out, somehow, and crawled into the weeds. Laying out in the rain--didn't help me none. It's--all off." "There ought to be _something_--" began Jack Bates helplessly. "There is. If yuh'll just put me away--afterwards--and say nothing,--I'll be--mighty grateful." He was looking at them sharply, as if a great deal depended upon their answer. The Happy Family was dazed. The very suddenness of this unlooked-for glimpse into the somber eyes of Tragedy was unnerving. The world had seemed such a jolly place; ten minutes ago--five minutes, even, their greatest fear had been getting to the picnic too late for dinner. And here was a man at their feet, calmly telling them that he was about to die, and asking only a hurried burial and a silence after. Happy Jack swallowed painfully and shifted his feet in the grass. "Of course, if yuh'd feel better handing me over--" "That'll be about enough on that subject," Pink interrupted with decision. "Just because yuh happen to be down and out--for the time being--is no reason why yuh should insult folks. You can take it for granted we'll do what we can for yuh; the question is, _what_? Yuh needn' go talking about cashing in--they's no sense in it. You'll be all right.--" "Huh. You wait and see." The fellow's mouth set grimly upon another groan. "If you was shot through, and stuck to the saddle--and rode--and then got pummeled--by a creek at flood, and if yuh laid out in the rain--all night-- Hell, boys! Yuh know I'm about all in. I'm hard to kill, or I'd have been--dead-- What I want to know--will yuh do what I--said? Will yuh bury me--right here--and keep it--quiet?" The Happy Family moved uncomfortably. They hated to see him lying that way, and talking in short, jerky sentences, and looking so ghastly, and yet so cool--as if dying were quite an everyday affair. "I don't see why yuh ask us to do it," spoke Cal Emmet bluntly. "What we want to do is get yuh to help. The chances is you could be--cured. We--"