Chip stood quite still till he was through, and eyed him sharply.  “You better take old Buck to pack your blankets and grub,” he told him, in a matter-of-fact tone.  “We’ll be swinging down that way in two or three days; by next Saturday you’ll find us camped at the mouth of Jump-off Coulee, if nothing happens.  That’ll give you four days to prowl around.  Come on, boys—­we’ve got a big circle ahead of us this morning, and it’s going to be hot enough to singe the tails off our cayuses by noon.”

That, of course, settled the disturbance and set the official seal of approval upon Andy’s going; for Chip was too wise to permit the affair to grow serious, and perhaps lose a man as good as Andy; family quarrels had not been entirely unknown among the boys of the Flying U, and with tact they never had been more than a passing unpleasantness.  So that, although Jack Bates swore vengeance and nursed sundry bruised spots on his face, and though Andy saddled, packed old Buck with his blankets and meager camp outfit and rode off sullenly with no word to anyone and only a scowling glance or two for farewell, Chip mounted and rode cheerfully away at the head of his Happy Family, worrying not at all over the outcome.

“I’ve got half a notion that Andy was telling the truth, after all,” he remarked to Weary when they were well away from camp.  “It’s worth taking a chance on, anyhow—­and when he comes back things will be smooth again.”

When Saturday came and brought no Andy to camp, the Happy Family began to speculate upon his absence.  When Sunday’s circle took them within twelve or fifteen miles of the camp in the Bad-lands, Pink suddenly proposed that they ride down there and see what was going on.  “He won’t be looking for us,” he explained, to hide a secret uneasiness.  “And if he’s there we can find out what the josh is.  If he ain’t, we’ll have it on him good and strong.”

“I betche Andy just wanted a lay-off, and took that way uh getting it,” declared Happy Jack pessimistically.  “I betche he’s in town right now, tearing things wide open and tickled to think he don’t have to ride in this hot sun.  Yuh can’t never tell what Andy’s got cached up his sleeve.”

“Chip thinks he was talking on the level,” Weary mused.  “Maybe he was; as Happy says, yuh can’t tell.”

As always before, this brought the Happy Family to argument which lasted till they neared the deep, lonely coulee where, according to Andy, “friend Dan” had wintered with the shifty-eyed old man.

“Now, how the mischief do we get down?” questioned Jack Bates complainingly.  “This is bound to be the right place—­there’s the cabin over there against the cottonwoods.”

“Aw, come on back,” urged Happy Jack, viewing the steep bluff with disfavor.  “Chances is, Andy’s in town right now.  He ain’t down—­”

“There’s old Buck, over there by the creek,” Pink announced.  “I’d know him far as I could see him.  Let’s ride around that way.  There’s sure to be a trail down.”  He started off, and they followed him dispiritedly, for the heat was something to remember afterwards with a shudder.