“That’s a good one partner, for you sure did knock spots out of the poor little yellow sap—chances are he followed some party down here yesterday, got to hunting around on his own hook, and missed them when they started up Angel Trail. Then he discovered the light of your fire here and hoping he’d run upon real friends who’d toss him a scrap of meat, was crawling up to investigate when you blasted him with that fierce volley. Poor confiding little beast, a victim of mistaken identity.”
“Migosh, a prairie dog!” muttered the astonished and mortified Perk, gazing ruefully down at the huddled mess before him, not too plainly seen on account of the fire flashing up only fitfully, being in need of more fuel.
“It’s all right, Perk old man,” soothed Jack, knowing just how mean his chum must be feeling, with that unseen girl a witness to his upset and her low gurgles of laughter coming distinctly to their ears in the bargain, “your intentions were okay, and you certainly did pot him neatly. No danger of any poacher stealing from a camp where you’ve taken up your post as sentry. That vivid dream you mentioned must have got on your nerves and when you discovered a moving figure, naturally enough your first thought was of sneaking four-footed mountain wolves about to make a raid.”
“Hot ziggetty dog! I sure must ’a’ had the jimjams all right,” chuckled Perk, beginning to throw off that stupid feeling of being only half awake and even able to laugh at the joke on himself.
“Jack,” said a merry, girlish voice just then, “tell your friend not to be worried about me. I’ve shot more than a few wolves and coyotes for I was born and brought up in the cow country you see. It’s all right, Perk, don’t feel badly about it. I know it was just to stand up in my defense that made you so speedy on the trigger. Only gave me a little scare until I guessed what it all meant. I’m going to sleep some more, though it’s a hard job to get Buddy’s frightful predicament out of my mind.”
“And Perk,” said Jack, throwing an arm affectionately across the shoulders of his mate, “you turn this job over to me now and get a few winks before morning comes creeping along out of the east over there to start us on our way again. I’ll sit right here, holding your old cannon and woe to the wolf, coyote or even another yellow cur that dares to sneak in on us.”
So after all Perk was not feeling so very badly on account of his fiasco, though it did make him grimace to remember that those bright eyes of Buddy’s best girl had been an amused witness to his humiliation.
He did not say another word, but humbly handed over the sub-machine-gun to his companion and dropped down near the fire upon which he had tossed a fresh supply of fuel. Secretly he was meaning to be up at peep of day before Suzanne would be stirring, in order to drag the victim of his fusilade some distance away from their camp so that her curious eyes might not be offended by sight of the wreck of a little harmless prairie dog.
The balance of that wonderful night, spent alongside the Colorado in the famous canyon of the painted walls, passed without a single thing happening to further disturb them.
In the east, where the mountain peaks made a ragged horizon, the first faint fingers of pink were commencing to streak the low heavens when Jack saw his chum moving off toward the spot where lay the victim of his deadly aim. He instinctively understood what Perk was aiming to do and on that account refrained from calling out or otherwise taking any notice of his being abroad.