“Ken,” he called, with both gladness and doubt in his voice, “you look pretty good--but that blood.... Tell me, quick!” “It's nothing, Dick, only a little cut. The bullet just ticked my arm.” Whatever Dick's reply was it got drowned in Herky-Jerky's long explosion of strange language. Herky was plainly glad I had not been badly hurt. I had already heard mirth, anger, disgust, and fear in his outbreaks, and now relief was added. He stripped off my coat, cut off the bloody sleeve of my shirt, and washed the wound. It was painful and bled freely, but it was not much worse than cuts from spikes when playing ball. Herky bound it tightly with a strip of my shirt-sleeve, and over that my handkerchief. “Thar, kid, thet'll stiffen up an' be sore fer a day or two, but it ain't nothin'. You'll soon be bouncin' clubs offen our heads.” It was plain that Herky--and the others, for that matter, except Buell--thought more of me because I had wielded a club so vigorously. “Look at thet lump, kid,” said Bud, bending his head. “Now, ain't thet a nice way to treat a feller? It made me plumb mad, it did.” “I'm likely to hurt somebody yet,” I declared. They looked at me curiously. Buell raised his face with a queer smile. Bud broke into a laugh. “Oh, you're goin' to? Mebbe you think you need an axe,” said he. They made no offer to tie me up then. Bud went to the door and sat in it, and I heard him half whisper to Buell: “What 'd I tell you? Thet's a game kid. If he ever wakes up right we'll have a wildcat on our hands. He'll do fer one of us yet.” These men all took pleasure in saying things like this to Buell. This time Buell had no answer ready, and sat nursing his head. “Wal, I hev a little headache myself, an' the crack I got wasn't nothin' to yourn,” concluded Bud. Then Bill began packing the supplies indoors, and Herky started a fire. Bud kept a sharp eye on me; still, he made no objection when I walked over and lay down upon the blankets near Dick. “Dick, I shot a bear and helped to tie up a cub,” I said. And then I told him all that had happened from the time I scrambled out of the spring-hole till I was discovered up in the loft. Dick shook his head, as if he did not know what to make of me, and all he said was that he would give a year's pay to have me safe back in Pennsylvania. Herky-Jerky announced supper in his usual manner--a challenge to find as good a cook as he was, and a cheerful call to “grub.” I did not know what to think of his kindness to me. Remembering how he had nearly drowned me in the spring, I resented his sudden change. He could not do enough for me. I asked the reason for my sudden popularity. Herky scratched his head and grinned. “Yep, kid, you sure hev riz in my estimashun.” “Hey, you rummy cow-puncher,” broke in Bud, scornfully. “Mebbe you'd like the kid more'n you do if you'd got one of them wollops.”