off and left me holdin' the sack, never said one word to them cattlemen that'll clear me."
"No, I don't reckon he did," said Uncle Boley, thoughtfully. "It wasn't to be expected of him. I see them cow-men ridin' in here early, and they're all stirred up, they tell me, 'count of fever breakin* out on the range."
"They're comin' in for a settlement with me, I've been told, Uncle Boley. This is the day of the big doin's, I guess."
"Yes, I was told; the news has went around. Well, where's that Fannie girl?"
Texas told him that she had gone, with no word behind her.
"What do you reckon got into her to fly up and leave that way?"
"I don't know, Uncle Boley, unless she felt hurt, sir, because she thought I was ungrateful for all she'd helped me to do, for all I never could 'a' done, sir, without her help."
Uncle Boley shook his head, bent over his work, shook his head again from time to time, through a long interval of silence.
"It wasn't that, Texas. She left because she was jealous. One agin the other, and you lost both of 'em. Well, you wasn't to blame; it just come out: that way."
"I bungled it up so, sir!" said Texas, regret-
