“Percival put his hand on my shoulder.  I thought my little effort would receive at least a smile, and was preparin’ to join in, when he says: 

“’Think of the state of that innocent man’s mind for those three days!’

“Well, I tried to, to oblige Percival, but I just naturally couldn’t; if it hadn’t been a nut come loose under the wagon there’d been nothing left for me but to die right there.

“Only one thing marred the trip.  We run across a man who asked where we was going.

“‘Oh, out a little way!’ says I.

“He looked at Percival.  ‘Here a minute!’ says he.  I went over to him.  ‘Look out for your eye!’ he whispered.  ’The ‘Paches are up.’

“Well, I never paid any more attention to a man predictin’ Injun troubles than I do to a farmer’s kickin’ about the weather, so I thanked him and we strolled on.  I explained to Percival that the man was the well-known desperado, James Despard, of the Bloody Hand, and he was askin’ me if I’d met any of his enemies.

“‘He didn’t look fierce,’ says Percival.

“‘That’s his lay,’ says I; ’he goes up to a man and don’t look fierce, and the first thing you know there’s a funeral.’

“About sunset we hit the place we aimed for:  a nice, high spot with a pool of water, overlooking the valley for miles.  It was straight on three sides, and a hard pull for the mules on the other; but a patch of grass to the back, timber handy, and the lookout it gave you, together with the water, made it worth the climb.  Besides, it was the very spot where the Roosian Prince Porkandbeansky camped, time I guided him ten years before.  I told Percival all about the Prince whilest I was cooking supper, thus giving him a line on the proper way to behave.  It was enough to say the Prince done so-and-so—­or didn’t—­to bring Percival into line easy for the rest of the trip.

“Well, we couldn’t get under that blue coverlid of Percival’s any too quick that night.  I didn’t mind a blanket thrown in, nor him, neither, for it was colder’n sin.  We was good and tired.  Broad sun-up when we woke.

“Percival, he flew around like a cock-sparrer.  Happy!  The Lord save us!  He sung little hymns, and trotted every step he took, his sun-burnt little nose gleamin’ with joy.  It done you good to look at him.  I took as much pride in him as though he was my sister’s eldest—­taught him to do this and that, till he was fit to bust with the glory of bein’ such a camper.  And forty times a day he’d explain to me how glad he was that I’d been his guide; how much he’d have missed otherwise.  I suppose them yarns I told him had added to his romantic ideas about living uncomfortably out-of-doors, but every time he said it I felt mean again.