Polly could not comprehend this strange behavior of Bud. Thinking to make him tell her his trouble by taunting him with cowardice, she asked:
"Say, look here, are you scared of Slim Hoover? Just let me handle him."
"No, no," expostulated Bud. "Can't you understand? We've been such good friends and—and—I can't pull a gun on him—"
Polly was speechless with surprise.
"Here he comes now," shouted Bud. "I'll hide in the wagon here—"
"Don't hide!" counseled Polly. "Why?"
Bud gave her no answer, for he had already disappeared under the cover of the mess-wagon.
"I don't like that a little bit. Slim never acted locoed before. I'll have to be mighty careful, I s'pose, for I think a heap of both Slim and Bud."
Slim came up to the wagon with his face wreathed in smiles. "If it ain't Miss Polly—" he yelled.
Polly, having heard that crazy people had to be humored, ran to meet him, and threw her arms about his neck.