“’Baout thirty or forty mile,” said Meadows. “That’s where I’m going to go,” said Westy. Still again there was silence, and Westy felt uncomfortable. He felt that he would like to know a little more about this man. And that was strange seeing that he was going to Chandler to report him. It seemed odd that Meadows did not threaten or try to dissuade him. Then, suddenly the whole matter was roughly taken out of Westy’s hands. Two men, with a leashed dog, came diagonally across the road. They had evidently come out of the woods and their importance and purpose were manifested by the group representing Barrett’s younger set which followed them in great excitement, running to keep up and be prompt upon the scene. There was no mistaking the air of vigorous assurance which the men bore. But if this were not enough the badge upon the shirt of one of them left no doubt of his official character. It was this one who held the dog and the tired beast was panting audibly. “Well, Luke, at it again, hey?” said the game warden, in that counterfeit tone of sociability which police officials acquire. [Illustration: “WELL, LUKE, AT IT AGAIN, HEY?” SAID THE GAME WARDEN.] “H’lo, Terry,” drawled Luke, not angrily. Surrounding the two men stood the gaping throng of curious boys. One or two slatternly women gave color to the scene. Somewhat apart from the group, a frightened, pitiful little figure, stood the child, Luke’s daughter. “You run over to Mis Ellis’,” Luke said to her. But the little girl did not run over to Mrs. Ellis. She just stood apart, staring with a kind of instinctive apprehension. “Well, Luke,” said the game warden, “seems like you got some explainin’ to do this time. What was you doin’ in the woods? Killin’ another deer, hey? When was you goin’ back to get him, Luke? Better get your hat, Luke, and come along with us. Farmer Sands here seen you comin’ out through the back fields——” Then the little girl interrupted the game warden’s talk by rushing pell-mell to her father. Luke put his big, brown hand about her and then Westy noticed that his forearm was tattooed with the figure of a buffalo. “You run along over t’ Missie Ellis,” said Luke, “and she’ll show yer them pictur’ books; you run like——” Here he arose, slowly, deliberately, as if with the one action to dismiss her and place himself in the hands of the law. Then, suddenly, he lifted her up and kissed her. In all the long time that Westy was destined to know Luke Meadows, this was the only occasion on which he was ever to see him act on impulse.