"And instead of being paid back you are getting both shares of the coyote bounty, and you know you don't deserve it. What are you going to do about it?"
"You bet he ain't a-goin' to get none of it!" was the emphatic reply; to which the girl had nothing to say.
In a few moments they came in sight of Sydney's camp. From out of the small stove-pipe of the first of the two tents rolled a volume of smoke, and across the narrow brush-covered valley came the delicious odor of cooking food. Simultaneously the two riders urged on their horses to a faster gait, for Hope at least was hungry. It is safe to say that the breed boy was in the same condition, and this invitation out to supper pleased him mightily. He was a large, stolidly built lad of fourteen years, and like all boys of that age, whether stolidly built or slender as a sapling, was always hungry.
"I'll bet I can eat the whole shootin' match," he declared, actually believing that he spoke the truth.
"I think the meal is prepared for hungry people," replied Hope, heartily agreeing with the boy's sentiments. "And I hope they have waited for us. But for goodness' sake be careful not to make yourself sick, Dave!"
The camp was pitched in an open flat beside a small sparkling mountain stream. Upon one side of the creek was brush-covered bottom land, through which the riders followed a winding trail, dim in the semi-darkness. Then they splashed across the creek, and rode up its steep bank into the clear, grass-covered government dooryard of the campers.
"Well, at last!" called a voice from the tent. "The posse was just getting ready to go in search of you. Thought the chickens must have lured you away. Come right in, the feast is prepared!"
"All right, Syd," called the girl happily, dismounting almost in the arms of old Jim McCullen, her dear "father Jim," to whom she gave the heartiest handshake he had ever received.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed as he led her horse away to stake it out. "How's everything at home—the dogs and horses, and everything? Never mind the people! I don't want to hear a single thing about them! We're late, Syd," she apologized, as her cousin held open the tent flap for her to enter, "but oh, we've had such a stack of fun!"
She greeted the little English cook, an old acquaintance, who beamed with smiles as she entered. Then she cast her dark eyes about the tent and encountered those of Livingston.