“Wal, good-by, then, an' rustle along.”
Dale nodded to the girls, and, turning his horse, he drove the pack-train before him up the open space between the stream and the wooded slope.
Roy stepped off his horse with that single action which appeared such a feat to Helen.
“Guess I'd better cinch up,” he said, as he threw a stirrup up over the pommel of his saddle. “You girls are goin' to see wild country.”
“Who's old Tom?” queried Bo, curiously.
“Why, he's Milt's pet cougar.”
“Cougar? That's a panther—a mountain-lion, didn't he say?”
“Shore is. Tom is a beauty. An' if he takes a likin' to you he'll love you, play with you, maul you half to death.”
Bo was all eyes.
“Dale has other pets, too?” she questioned, eagerly.