"Well, I got into a bit of a row, that's all. So I lit out until things could blow over a bit." "And took some of your mother's cash before you left, I heard," nodded Private Noll Terry. "She gave it to me," cried Tip fiercely. "Now, see here, don't you fellows say nothing about seeing me out in this part of the country. I'm out here trying to run down a good, new start in life. You just keep your tongues behind your teeth as far as my affairs are concerned." "What kind of a new start can you make out in these hills?" queried Hal. "That's what I'm here to find out. My cash has about run out, so I'm walking. I'm bound for a ranch about forty miles west of here, where I expect to land a job. So don't you go to talking too much about me, and trying to spoil me." "Why did you try to knock me over with a small-sized boulder?" Hal insisted. "Because I wanted to play a joke on you," retorted Tip, with a grin. "That's a lie, but let it go at that," rejoined Hal Overton. "It would be too much, anyway, wouldn't it, Tip, to expect the truth from you?" "You always were down on me," replied Branders half coaxingly. "If you'd only taken more trouble to understand me you'd have understood that I'm not a half bad fellow." "No; only about nine-tenths bad," grimaced Noll derisively. "Well, there's no use in my staying here to talk with you fellows," muttered Tip angrily. "You never were friends of mine. So I'll be on my way." "Tramping it for forty miles, are you?" called Noll, as Tip turned away. "'Bout that," Branders called back over his shoulder. "Then, man alive, why don't you keep to the road, instead of scrambling over these rough boulders?" Tip's only answer was a snort. "Come back to the road," proposed Hal to his chum. So the two rookies clambered back over the ledge and down onto the excellent military road. But they caught no further glimpse of Tip Branders; plainly he preferred different paths. "What do you make out of Tip?" asked Noll, a minute later. "Nothing," Hal answered, "except that he was lying, as usual, of course. Tip never tells the truth; there's no sport in it." "I'd like to know what he is doing out in this country." "Oh, I reckon," suggested Hal, "that, as he couldn't be a soldier, he thought he'd take up cowboy life as the next best thing." "He won't last long as a cowboy," laughed Noll. "Tip hates work, and the cowboy is about the hardest worked man in America." "Well, we don't have to worry about Tip," muttered Hal. "We don't even have to talk about him. Noll, look at those noble old mountains!" "Some day, when we have enough time off, we must walk to the mountains," urged Noll. "I wonder how many miles away they are--five, or six?" "Hm!" laughed Hal. "I asked Sergeant Gray, and he said that range over there is about forty miles away." "Forty!" Noll looked plainly unbelieving.