The Last of the Plainsmen 



The order of the day was leisurely to get in 

 readiness, and pack for our journey to the Siwash 

 on the morrow. I watered my horse, played with the 

 hounds, knocked about the cliffs, returned to the 

 cabin, and lay down on my bed. Jim s hands were 

 white with flour. He was kneading dough, and had 

 several low, flat pans on the table. Wallace and 

 Jones strolled in, and later Frank, and they all took 

 various positions before the fire. I saw Frank, with 

 the quickness of a sleight-of-hand performer, slip 

 one of the pans of dough on the chair Jones had 

 placed by the table. Jim did not see the action; 

 Jones s and Wallace s backs were turned to Frank, 

 and he did not know I was in the cabin. The con 

 versation continued on the subject of Jones s big bay 

 horse, which, hobbles and all, had gotten ten miles 

 from camp the night before. 



&quot; Better count his ribs than his tracks,&quot; said 

 Frank, and went on talking as easily and naturally 

 as if he had not been expecting a very entertaining 

 situation. 



But no one could ever foretell Colonel Jones s 

 actions. He showed every intention of seating him 

 self in the chair, then walked over to his pack to 

 begin searching for something or other. Wallace, 

 however, promptly took the seat; and what began 

 to be funnier than strange, he did not get up. Not 



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