"I didn't know he was subject to grouches," mused Roger. "Say, Ern, before I read the mail, I've got some news for you."
"Qui-tha done some real work?" asked Ernest with a yawn.
"Oh, Qui-tha! I'd forgotten him. He departed that morning without a farewell. We have, however, another guest, who is at this moment asleep in her own tent, near the cook house."
"Get out, Roger! It's too late for joking. Let me get to bed."
"A regular lady, Ern, six feet two or three in height and as near as I can make out she's here for keeps. She's Von Minden's wife."
Ernest stopped yawning. "Who the deuce is Von Minden?"
"Oh, I forgot to mention him. He's the man who tried to shoot me yesterday."
Ernest stared at Roger incredulously. "Rog, what's the matter with you? You're positively maudlin."
Roger chuckled. "Next time you want excitement, Ernie, don't go to Archer's Springs. Stay right at home here in the God-forsakenest spot on earth. Now I'll make my story as short as I can, but you've got to hear it to-night. I can't sleep with it on my chest and she's liable to break loose with something any time."
He finished his story as rapidly as possible, Ernest's consternation growing as he proceeded.