“Say, I’m going to be an interfering kind of a cuss, and put you next to something,” he began, with just the right degree of hesitation in his manner.  “It ain’t any of my business, but—­” He stopped and lighted a cigarette.  “If you’ll come up to the bunk-house, I’ll show you something funny!”

Ford dismounted in silence, led his horse into the stable, and without waiting to unsaddle, followed Dick.

“We’ve got to hurry, before Mose gets back from hunting eggs,” Dick remarked, by way of explaining the long strides he took.  “And of course I’m taking it for granted, Ford, that you won’t say anything.  I kinda thought you ought to know, maybe—­but I’d never say a word if I didn’t feel pretty sure you’d keep it behind your teeth.”

“Well—­I’m waiting to see what it is,” Ford replied non-committally.

Dick opened the kitchen door, and led Ford through that into the bunk-room.  “You wait here—­I’m afraid Mose might come back,” he said, and went into the kitchen.  When he returned he had a gallon jug in his hand.  He was still smiling.

“I went to mix me up some soda-water for heartburn,” he said, “and when I picked up this jug, Mose took it out of my hand and said it was boiled cider, that he’d got for mince-meat.  So when he went out, I took a taste.  Here:  You sample it yourself, Ford.  If that’s boiled cider, I wouldn’t mind having a barrel!”

Ford took the jug, pulled the cork, and sniffed at the opening.  He did not say anything, but he looked up at Dick significantly.

“Taste it once!” urged Dick innocently.  “I’d just like to have you see the brand of slow poison a fool like Mose will pour down him.”

Ford hesitated, sniffed, started to set down the jug, then lifted it and took a swallow.

“That isn’t as bad as some I’ve seen,” he pronounced evenly, shoving in the cork.  “Nor as good,” he added conservatively.  “I wonder where he got it.”

“Search me—­oh, by jiminy, here he comes!  I’m going to take a scoot, Ford.  Don’t give me away, will you?  And if I was you, I wouldn’t say anything to Mose—­I know that old devil pretty well.  He’ll keep mighty quiet about it himself—­unless you jump him about it.  Then he’ll roar around to everybody he sees, and claim it was a plant.”

He slid stealthily through the outer door, and Ford saw him run down into the gully and disappear, while Mose was yet half-way from the stable.

Ford sat on the edge of a bunk and looked at the jug beside him.  If Dick had deliberately planned to tempt him, he had chosen the time well; and if he had not done it deliberately, there must have been a malignant spirit abroad that day.