“I’m up!  I’m up!  I get around to all of ’em.”

“Where do yu’ sleep?”

“Sleeping with the engine-man now.  Why can’t you put that on me to-night?”

“Goin’ up-stairs.  This gentleman wouldn’t let you go up-stairs.”

But the earnestly petitioned clerk consented, and Billy was the first to hasten into the room.  He stood rapturous while Lin buckled the belt round his scanty stomach, and ingeniously buttoned the suspenders outside the accoutrement to retard its immediate descent to earth.

“Did it ever kill a man?” asked Billy, touching the six-shooter.

“No.  It ain’t never had to do that, but I expect maybe it’s stopped some killin’ me.”

“Oh, leave me wear it just a minute!  Do you collect arrow-heads?  I think they’re bully.  There’s the finest one you ever seen.”  He brought out the relic, tightly wrapped in paper, several pieces.  “I foun’ it myself, camping with father.  It was sticking in a crack right on top of a rock, but nobody’d seen it till I came along.  Ain’t it fine?”

Mr. McLean pronounced it a gem.

“Father an’ me found a lot, an’ they made mother mad laying around, an’ she throwed ’em out.  She takes stuff from Kelley’s.”

“Who’s Kelley?”

“He keeps the drug-store at Laramie.  Mother gets awful funny.  That’s how she was when I came home.  For I told Mr. Perkins he lied, an’ I ran then.  An’ I knowed well enough she’d lick me when she got through her spell—­ an’ father can’t stop her, an’ I—­ah, I was sick of it!  She’s lamed me up twice beating me—­an’ Perkins wanting me to say ‘God bless my mother!’ a-getting up and a-going to bed—­he’s a flubdub!  An’ so I cleared out.  But I’d just as leaves said for God to bless father—­an’ you.  I’ll do it now if you say it’s any sense.”

Mr. McLean sat down in a chair.  “Don’t yu’ do it now,” said he.

“You wouldn’t like mother,” Billy continued.  “You can keep that.”  He came to Lin and placed the arrow-head in his hands, standing beside him.  “Do you like birds’ eggs?  I collect them.  I got twenty-five kinds—­sage-hen, an’ blue grouse, an’ willow-grouse, an’ lots more kinds harder—­but I couldn’t bring all them from Laramie.  I brought the magpie’s, though.  D’ you care to see a magpie egg?  Well, you stay to-morrow an’ I’ll show you that en’ some other things I got the engine-man lets me keep there, for there’s boys that would steal an egg.  An’ I could take you where we could fire that pistol.  Bet you don’t know what that is!”

He brought out a small tin box shaped like a thimble, in which were things that rattled.

Mr. McLean gave it up.

“That’s kinni-kinnic seed.  You can have that, for I got some more with the engine-man.”