My fondest hopes I’ve seen decay....
I never loved a dear gazelle—’”
“Waugh!” grunted Dig. “What’s a gazelle?”
“It’s something like an antelope.”
“Well, it sounds awfully mushy. I’d like to catch one of ’em to eat.”
“Sorry,” said Chet, throwing out the remainder of his coffee. “But it would take a long time to trail those fellows. Maybe we’ll try it on our way back.”
“We’re going to fast, then, going over to Grub Stake?” suggested Dig, complainingly. “This sort of a snack isn’t going to keep me in the saddle for long.”
“Perhaps we’ll come across a deer, poor boy,” said Chet soothingly. “I shouldn’t wish you to starve. You know, the redman only pulled his belt the tighter when he had to go without food, and did not complain.”
“That’s all right. I’ll leave that to John Peep. When little Dig Fordham gets hungry you’re going to hear a holler—be sure of that.”
“Keep your eye open for deer, then—or, when we get in the open, for sage hens or quail.”