“Coming--what’s the matter now?” called the Colonel’s voice as they heard him striding through the kitchen, accompanied by the hard click of horny hound nails. He opened the door, Pepper and Lee nearly yanking him off his feet as they both leaped for the tureen. The Colonel roared with Gargantuan laughter--the wild and woolly Outdoors had surely come again to Colvin House! There were feminine sniffs behind him, and another uproar from Aunty Sally, but the mischief was done. No question about Ruler’s pups getting theirs first, that night! Be that as it may, they could get nothing further out of the Colonel but quizzical grins concerning the proposed hunting trip. Spring came and ripened into summer, finding him still sphinxlike. But every evening he kept them at mending tents and duffel and hunting clothes, while Pepper, Bourbon and Lee put weight on their black and tan bodies until they were great hulking things of over fifty pounds, lacking only hardening to make them full-grown dogs. Occasionally, when Scotty could get off from the job that he had taken in the bank, they went up into the mountains for a brief camp and a run for the dogs. Pepper saw his first deer. After that hunt the pups had to be chased, rounded up and chained in camp until it got to be a plaguy nuisance, no less! Then came a letter from Big John that gave the Colonel’s secret away. The boys found it lying open on the cedar log table in the Den, probably forgotten during some call into the house. “Got your letter telling how Jedge Hawkes is sending out Ruler and am sharpening up the camp axe,” began the letter, as the boys giggled over this cryptic sentence. “Will be in Santa Fe Oct. 1, and go on to Hinchman’s Ranch to see about hosses,” they read on with joyful eyes. Then they skipped away from the table, for the Colonel was coming back through the house door. He eyed them suspiciously as his glance fell on the open letter. Then Sid burst into a whoop and threw his arms around him boyishly. “Oh, Dad!--is it the Southwest? Are we really and truly going to the Southwest?” he caroled. “Who said anything about the Southwest?” growled the Colonel, trying to twist down his lips under his white mustache. “You been reading my letters?” “Couldn’t help it, Dad! Gee, I can see those big hen-tracks of John’s ’way from here! And he’s going to meet us in Santa Fe, too--with Ruler!” “Who’s ‘us,’ young man?” queried the Colonel. “Well! I might as well tell you, now; and I’ll begin with Scotty. You wanted to go into mining, didn’t you, Scotty?” inquired the Colonel. “Yes, sir--but I can’t afford a technical college course, now,” said the boy, sadly. “Mother has nothing but her pension----”