"Do you doubt my word, stranger?" exclaimed the Pike man, putting his hand to his side and fingering his knife.

"Not at all," said Joe. "But I wanted to understand how it was."

"I don't give no explanations," said the Pike man haughtily, "and I allow no man to doubt my word."

"Look here, my friend," said Joshua, "ain't you rather cantankerous?"

"What's that?" demanded the other suspiciously.

"No offense," said Joshua, "but you take a feller up so we don't know exactly how to talk to you."

"I take no insults," said the Pike man. "Insults must be washed out in blood."

"Soap-suds is better than blood for washin' purposes," said Joshua practically. "Seems to me you're spoilin' for a fight all the time."

"I allow I am," said the Pike man, who regarded this as a compliment.

"I was brought up on fightin'. When I was a boy I could whip any boy in school."

"That's why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess," said Joshua.

"You're right, stranger," said the Pike man complacently.

"What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin'?" asked Mr.

Bickford.

"What did I do?" yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown.

"Exactly so."

"I shot him!" said the Pike man briefly.

"Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?"

"Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me."

"So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?"

"You're right, stranger."

"They didn't manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow," said Mr. Bickford.

"Boys ain't quite so handy with shootin'-irons. When the master flogged us we had to stand it."

"Were you afraid of him?" asked the Pike man disdainfully.

"Well, I was," Joshua admitted. "He was a big man with arms just like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution."

"I'd have shot him in his tracks," said the Pike man fiercely.

"You'd have got a wallopin' fust, I reckon," said Joshua.

"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded the Pike man.

"Oh, lay down, and don't be so cantankerous," said Joshua. "You're allus thinkin' of bein' insulted."

"We may as well be going," said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted with their new companion.

"Just as you say, Joe," said Joshua. "Here, you pesky critter, come and let me mount you."

The mustang realized Joe's prediction. After his hearty supper he seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount him without opposition.

Joe also mounted his horse.

"I'll ride along with you if you've no objections," said the Pike man. "We kin camp together to-night."

So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had recently dismounted.

Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought it best to be candid.

"If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult you,"

he said quietly, "you can join us. If you are bent on quarreling, you had better ride on by yourself."

The Pike man frowned fiercely.

"Boy," he said, "I have shot a man for less than that."

"I carry a revolver," said Joe quietly, "but I shan't use it unless it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you'd better ride on alone."

This the Pike man did not care to do.

"You're a strange boy," he said, "but I reckon you're on the square.

I'll go along with you."

"I would rather you'd leave us," thought Joe, but he merely said: "Very well."

CHAPTER XXVII

TWO TRAGIC STORIES

They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua's steed, placated by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through the canon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed.

"Ain't we gone about fur enough for to-night?" asked Joshua.

"Perhaps we have," answered Joe.

"Here's a good place to camp," suggested the man from Pike County, pointing to a small grove of trees to the right.