did we see. Lucky did make out a sand cloud way to the north, but it wasn’t large enough to hold a caravan. Lucky believed it to be made by a small herd of cattle trailing toward Puffed Snake Water Hole.

“It was dusk when we entered the ranch house, and Sing Long was the only person at home. He had been baking all the afternoon in the kitchen, and had neither seen nor heard anyone passing. We did not tell him that we had been informed that a gypsy caravan, made up of at least six covered wagons, had been seen leaving Douglas and heading our way. We had decided that there really was nothing in the report, and Sing Long was inclined to be imaginative.

“After supper Lucky and I sat for a time in front of the fireplace. I was reading, and, though Lucky held a newspaper and stared at it as though he were deeply engrossed in some item of Douglas news, he was evidently thinking all the time of what we had heard that afternoon. His first remark proved this.

“Suddenly he sat up very straight and seemed to be listening. ‘Did you hear it?’ he asked. ‘A sort of a rattling noise?’

“I put down my book and listened. I heard nothing and I told him so. ‘That is nothing, except the bellowing of the prize yearlings that we had driven into the corral the day before.’ It did seem as though they were making more noise than they had during the day.

“‘Wall, I reckon that’s only natural,’ Lucky tried to reassure himself by sayin’. ‘They’re restless, them young steers air, being shet in arter allays havin’ had the freedom of the range.’ He returned to his newspaper and I to my book, but before many minutes I was conscious of the fact that my companion was again listening intently. I laughed. ‘Lucky,’ I remonstrated, ‘aren’t you imaginative tonight? Surely you are not expecting a visit from Davie’s Gypsy caravan, are you? That would be utterly impossible, since only two hours ago you saw for yourself, when we were on the top of Yucca Hill, that there was nothing of the kind for many miles around.’

“‘Wall, I call’ate Ah am sort of skeerful. Truth is Ah never did like them Gypsy folk. Ran into ’em once when Ah was a little shaver, down in Texas, and Ah’ve given ’em a wide berth ever since.’ Then he rose, saying, as he yawned and stretched: ‘Wall, sort o’ guess Ah’ll turn in. Ah reckon Slim’s back from the border, or soon will be. Ah’ll take one more look at the corral an’ see if them gates are still barred.’

“‘All right, Lucky. S’long.’ 

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