ment dominated by a man whose quizzical utterances piqued his interest and flamed his curiosity. Supper was already under way when he reached home. His mother asked him anxiously where he had been, and his father reproved him sharply for his tardiness. He slid into his seat, and busied himself with knife and fork, and within the hour was out of the house again to hunt up Dolf and Bill.
He found them and related a breathless story of the day's events. Their reactions were characteristic.
"I hope he gives us something good to eat the day we go there," said Dolf.
Bill Harrison's smile was a bit dreamy. "I'd like to meet that Butterfly Man," he said.
Five days later they rode slowly out of Springham, their rate of progress stayed by the necessity of holding back for Bill. The morning was hot and sultry, and after five miles Dolf began to grumble and to ask if they were ever going to get there.
"Perhaps," Bill said, "if Dolf speaks about it the Butterfly Man will move his place nearer town. It's a darn shame to ask Dolf to work himself into a sweat."
"Ah, shut up!" Dolf growled; but thereafter he rode without complaint.
They came at last to the dirt road, and turned in. Soon they were at the trail. The three dis-
