Mary hastily got out the whiskey and Pickles gulped down a mouthful before he realized what it was. He choked, and pushed away the cup. "Don't want it," he declared, weakly; "ain't never goin' to drink."
"Good boy," encouraged Mary, patting his head. "You stick to that."
"Where 's Buck?" asked Pickles.
"He ain't come back yet," answered Mary.
"Where is he?" insisted Pickles.
"I don't know," was the patient reply.
"I gotta find Buck," the boy declared, starting to rise.
Mary pushed him back. "How can you find him when you don't know where he is?"
"Ain't he som'er's on th' range?"
"No; him an' Whit rode off Twin River way this mornin' an' they ain't neither of 'em back yet."