“Well,” he said, “Kate brought you out here.  Maybe she has a reason for it.  What d’you want to know?”

“What connection,” said the doctor, “have wild geese with a man, a horse, and a dog?”

“What in hell d’you know about a horse and a man and a dog—­and wild geese?” inquired Buck in a strained voice.

“Rumour,” said the doctor, “has been in this instance, unfortunately, my only teacher.  But, sir, I have ascertained that Mr. Cumberland, his daughter, and you, sir, are all waiting for a certain thing to come to this ranch, and that thing I naturally assume to be a man.”

“Doc,” said the cowpuncher sarcastically, “there ain’t no doubt you got a wonderful brain!”

“Mockery,” pronounced the man of learning, “is a use of the mental powers which is both unworthy and barren and does not in this case advance the argument, which is:  Who and what is this man for whom you wait?”

“He came,” said Buck Daniels, “out of nowhere.  That’s all we know about who he is.  What is he?  I’ll tell you easy:  He’s a gent that looks like a man, and walks like a man, and talks like a man—­but he ain’t a man.”

“Ah,” nodded the philosopher, “a crime of extraordinary magnitude has, perhaps, cut off this unfortunate fellow from communication with others of his kind.  Is this the case?”

“It ain’t,” replied Buck.  “Doc, tell me this:  Can a wolf commit a crime?”

“Admitting this definition:  that crime is the breaking of law, and that law is a force created by reason to control the rational, it may be granted that the acts of the lower animals lie outside of categories framed according to ethical precepts.  To directly answer your not incurious question:  I believe that a wolf cannot commit a crime.”

Buck Daniels sighed.

“D’you know, doc,” he said gravely, “that you remind me of a side-hill goat?”

“Ah,” murmured the man of learning, “is it possible?  And what, Mr. Daniels, is the nature of a side-hill goat?”

“It’s a goat that’s got the legs of one side shorter than the legs on the other side, and the only way he can get to the top of a hill is to keep trottin’ around and around the hill like a five per cent. grade.  He goes a mile to get ten feet higher.”

“This fact,” said Byrne, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “is not without interest, though I fail to perceive the relation between me and such a creature, unless, perhaps, there are biologic similarities of which I have at present no cognition.”

“I didn’t think you’d follow me,” replied Buck with an equal gravity.  “But you can lay to this, Doc; this gent we’re waitin’ for ain’t committed any more crimes than a wolf has.”

“Ah, I see,” murmured the doctor, “a man so near the brute that his enormities pass beyond—­”

“Get this straight,” said Buck, interrupting with a sternly pointed finger:  “There ain’t a kinder or a gentler man in the mountain-desert than him.  He’s got a voice softer than Kate Cumberland’s, which is some soft voice, and as for his heart—­Doc, I’ve seen him get off his horse to put a wounded rabbit out of its pain!”