Hank Barley, an old-timer, jumped up with his gun poised, ready for business.  “Why, he’s daid!” he exclaimed, poking the lion with the muzzle of his gun.

Pete rose languidly and began to dress.  “What’s all the hocus, fellas?  Where’s Haskins?”

“Bill he done lit out like he’d lost somethin’,” said Barley.  “Now I wonder what young ijjut packed that tree-cat in here last night?  Jim said yesterday he was goin’ to do a little lookin’ round.  Looks like he sure seen somethin’.”

“Yes,” drawled Pete.  “Jim and me got a buck and this here lion.  We didn’t have time to git anything else.”

“Too bad you didn’t git a bear and a couple of bob-cats while you was at it.”

“Hey, boys!” called Andy from the doorway.  “Come see Bill!”

The men crowded to the door.  Perched on the top rail of the corral fence sat Bill Haskins shivering and staring at the house.  “We killed your bed-feller!” called Barley.  “He done et your pants afore we plugged him, but I kin lend you a pair.  You had better git a-movin’ afore Ma Bailey—­”

“Ssh!” whispered Andy White.  “There’s Ma standin’ in the kitchen door and—­she’s seen Bill!”

Bill also realized that he had been seen by Mrs. Bailey.  He shivered and shook, teetering on the top rail until indecision got the better of his equilibrium.  With a wild backward flip he disappeared from the high-line of vision.  Ma Bailey also disappeared.  The boys doubled up and groaned as Bill Haskins crawled on all fours across the corral toward the shelter of the stable.

“Oh, my Gosh!” gasped Barley.  “S-s-ome—­body—­sh-shoot me and put me out of my m-misery!”

A few seconds later Bailey crossed the yard carrying an extra pair of those coverings most essential to male comfort and equanimity.

It was a supernaturally grave bevy of cow-punchers that gathered round the table that morning.  Ma Bailey’s silence was eloquent of suppressed indignation.  Bailey also seemed subdued.  Pete was as placid as a sleeping cherub.  Only Andy White seemed really overwrought.  He seemed to suffer internally.  The sweat stood out on Bill Haskins’s red face, but his appetite was in no way impaired.  He ate rapidly and drank much coffee.  Ma Bailey was especially gracious to him.  Presently from Pete’s end of the table came a faint “Me-e-ow!” Andy White put down his cup of coffee and excusing himself fled from the room, Pete stared after him as though greatly astonished.  Barley the imperturbable seemed to be suffering from internal spasms, and presently left the table.  Blaze Andrews, the quietest of the lot, also departed without finishing his breakfast.

“Ain’t you feelin’ well, Ma?” queried Pete innocently.

Bailey rose and said he thought he would “go see to the horses”—­a very unusual procedure for him.  Pete also thought it was about time to depart.  He rose and nodded to Bill.  “Glad to see you back, Bill.”  Then he went swiftly.