“Why don’t you tie him to Star’s tail?” asked Teddy, his face a study in innocence.
“Why don’t I? A fine suggestion!” his brother burst out. “Why don’t you carry him under your arm? You’ve got a leather vest on—you won’t get stuck.”
Teddy assumed to consider this proposition. He dismounted and walked toward the porcupine. Bending over, he peered closely at the curled-up animal.
“Looks as if he were dead,” the boy said finally.
“He’s not dead,” Roy declared convincingly. “You try to pat him on the head if you think so. He just curls up so you’ll let him alone.”
“Like a steam roller?”
“Yea, like a steam roller,” answered Roy, with a grin. “If you think I’m going to ask why, you’re mistaken. Go on, pick him up, Teddy. He won’t hurt you. He likes children.”
“Then why don’t you take a crack at him?” the other boy demanded. The one year’s difference in their ages was a touchy point with Teddy.
“Too busy. I have to hold your horse or he’ll slide down the mountain side.”
The two boys were returning from a ride across the country. They had been investigating some land that their father, who was the owner of the X Bar X Ranch, was thinking of purchasing for grazing ground. They had stayed longer than they had intended, and, wishing to reach home before night, had taken a short cut over Mica Mountain. The riding was not of the best, especially at this time of year when the warm summer sun had melted the snows on the peaks and the water, flowing down, was loosening the top soil. But the brothers were willing to chance a possible accident for the sake of arriving home “in time for grub.”