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“When did you see him?” queried Mr. Majors crisply.

“We just come from him. He thought there might be a job of herding open.”

“That boy’s pretty young.”

“He’s not any younger than I was when I started in, Mr. Majors.” Billy spoke like a man, and Mr. Majors appeared to regard him as a man.

“Where are your parents?” asked Mr. Majors of Davy.

Dave gulped.

“I haven’t any. I was with my uncle.”

“Where’s he?”

Davy shook his head and gulped again. Billy helped him out.

“The Injuns struck their wagon on the trail and wiped them out, Mr. Majors. The Cut Nose band had Dave, and he came into our train after that mule fort fight. He made good with us; Lew Simpson and Wild Bill and George Woods and everybody will say that; and he’ll make good anywhere you put him, I believe.”

“Well,” said Mr. Majors, “if he has no folks that’s a different matter. I don’t want to encourage any boy to leave his home when he ought to be going to school, and getting the right bringing up generally. It’s a rough life for a boy or man either out on the plains. Do you swear?” he demanded, suddenly.