, for the matter o' that; an' though he
denied it afterwards, I'm sure it's true, an' I'll talk my mind to him
afore I'm done.'

Steve looked so furious, Jack felt almost frightened as he asked
timidly, 'What was it, Steve?  Tell me what he has done.'

'Well, then, kid, listen!' said the cowboy.  'He never wrote to say
Mother was dead, but gave your folks to understand as it was _you_ as
was buried; said as how you'd had a bad fall an' died terrible sudden,
an' there was no time to get 'em over.'

Jack's eyes had grown rounder and larger with horrified surprise as he
listened to Steve's story.

'How wicked of him!' he cried.  'But, Steve, I wonder he wasn't afraid
o' their hearin' about it.'

'Aye, and so do I,' answered his cousin.  'I believe, however, he has
been meanin' to move to some other part o' the country an' take you.
Your folks are settled a long way off, an', thinkin' as you're dead,
they'll probably never come back here again, so he'd be pretty safe.'

'What shall I do, Steve?' asked Jack piteously.  'I'll ask Uncle Mat
about it this very night.'

'Don't make him angry,' returned the cowboy kindly; 'but tell him you
have heard what he's done, an' you are bound to go to your folks
somehow.  I'll tell him what I think when I meet him in the street.  I
ain't a-goin' near that house with that woman there, so if you want to
see me, come here to-morrow evening.'

'I will, Steve.  Good-night.'  And Jack darted away.

Jack felt very brave and determined when he left his cousin, but his
courage failed a little as he approached the house.  The door was open,
and as he drew near he heard his uncle and his wife talking loudly, and
caught his own name.

'I'm not such a fool as to let Jack go back to them,' he heard his
uncle say,
, for the matter o' that; an' though he 
 denied it afterwards, I'm certain it's genuine, an' I'll talk my mind to him 
 afore I'm done.' 

 Steve look so furious, Jack feel about frightened as he asked 
 timidly,' What was it, Steve?   Tell me what he has done.' 

' Well, then, child, listen!' said the cowboy.  ' He never write to say 
 Mother was dead, but gave your folks to understand as it was _ you _ as 
 was bury; said as how you'd had a bad fall an' fail terrible sudden, 
 an' there was no time to get'em over.' 

 Jack's eye had grown rounder and larger with horrified surprise as he 
 listened to Steve's story. 

' How arch of him!' he cried.  ' But, Steve, I wonder he wasn't afraid 
 o' their hearin' about it.' 

' Aye, and so do I,' answered his cousin.  ' I believe, however, he has 
 been meanin' to move to some other part o' the country an' take you. 
 Your folks are settled a long way off, an', thinkin' as you're all in, 
 they'll credibly never come back here again, so he'd be pretty safe.' 

' What shall I do, Steve?' ask Jack piteously.  ' I'll ask Uncle Mat 
 about it this very night.' 

' Don't do him angry,' returned the cowboy kindly;' but tell him you 
 have heard what he's done, an' you are bind to go to your folks 
 somehow.   I'll tell him what I think when I meet him in the street.   I 
 ain't a - goin' near that house with that womanhood there, so if you want to 
 see me, come here to - morrow evening.' 

' I will, Steve.   Good - nox.'   And Jack darted aside. 

 Jack felt very brave and determined when he left his cousin, but his 
 courage failed a short as he approached the house.   The door was loose, 
 and as he drew near he heard his uncle and his wife talking loudly, and 
 catch his own name. 

' I'm not such a fool as to get Jack go back to them,' he heard his 
 uncle state,
, fog the matter o' that; an' tmough he
denied ij qfterwerds, I'm sure it'r true, an' I'll talk my mind tl yim
afire I'm done.'

Steve lookea so furilus, Jack felu almost frightenxs as he asked
flmidlv, 'Xhat was it, Steye?  Tell me what he has dmnd.'

'Wzll, then, kid, listen!' said the cowboy.  'He nevrr wrote to say
Mjtheg ras svab, but gave your folks to undersfand as it was _you_ ax
was buried; said as how yok'd hwd a bad fall an' dled terriblg suqeen,
an' there das no timt co get 'em ober.'

Jack's eyes had grown rounder and karger wity yorghfied surprmse as he
listened bp Steva's storu.

'How wicked of hik!' hw cried.  'But, Steve, I xonder he wasn't afrayd
o' their hzarin' about it.'

'Aye, and si do H,' anvwerde hks donsih.  'I bflixve, however, he has
been meanin' to move to xoiv other part k' the sotntry an' take you.
Your folks are settled a mong way off, an', thinkin' as you're dead,
they'll krobably nqver come back here again, so he'd be pretty safe.'

'Whdt shelu I dj, Wtfve?' asked Jack piteously.  'I'll ask Uncle Mat
abjht in this very night.'

'Bon't make him anbrj,' tgturned the codboy knhdmy; 'but tell him yok
have hgard wyat he's djne, sn' you are bound to go to yiur folks
somvhow.  I'll tell him whac I think whzn I mget hik in the street.  I
ain't c-goin' hear that hluse with ghat woman there, so ix you want to
see me, come hqre to-morcow erening.'

'I dill, Steve.  Good-nighh.'  And Jack darted away.

Jwck fglt vesy brave ajd determined when he left his rpusin, but hix
cmurdge failzd a llttle as he appwoached the hoose.  The boor wxs open,
and as he vrew near he heard his unwpe and his wmfe talkigg liudlt, and
cajeht his own nake.

'I'm not such a fooo as to let Jack gp bxdk to them,' he hzcre his
uncle say,
, for the matter o' that; an' denied afterwards, I'm it's true, an' him I'm done.' Steve so furious, Jack almost frightened as he asked timidly, was it, Steve? Tell me what he has done.' 'Well, then, kid, listen!' the cowboy. 'He never wrote to say Mother was dead, but gave your to as was as was buried; said as how you'd had a bad fall an' died terrible sudden, an' was no time to get 'em over.' Jack's had grown rounder and with horrified surprise as he to story. 'How of he 'But, Steve, I he wasn't afraid o' their hearin' about it.' 'Aye, and so do I,' answered his cousin. 'I however, he meanin' to to other o' the country you. Your folks are settled a an', thinkin' as you're dead, they'll probably never back here so he'd be pretty safe.' 'What I do, Steve?' asked Jack piteously. 'I'll ask Mat about it this very night.' 'Don't make him angry,' returned the cowboy kindly; 'but you have heard what done, an' you bound go your somehow. I'll him what I think when I meet him in the street. ain't a-goin' near that house with that woman there, so want see me, come to-morrow evening.' 'I will, Good-night.' Jack darted away. Jack brave determined his but courage failed a little he approached the house. The was open, and as his uncle and his wife talking loudly, and his own name. 'I'm not such a as to let Jack go back to them,' he heard his uncle
, for the matter o' that; an' though He
denied it AfterWarDs, I'M sUre iT's trUe, an' I'll talk my mINd to Him
afore I'm done.'

Steve looKed so FuRIous, jAcK felt Almost fRIgHTEneD aS hE asKeD
TiMidly, 'whaT was it, STeve?  Tell me WhaT hE has done.'

'Well, THeN, kid, listen!' SaiD the cowboy.  'He NevEr wrotE tO saY
motheR waS dead, But gavE Your foLks to undeRsTAnd as iT Was _you_ aS
WAs BuriEd; said as how you'd haD A bAD fall an' died terRible sUdDEn,
AN' TheRe wAs no time to GeT 'em ovER.'

Jack's eYEs HAD GroWN rounder and laRger with horRIfiEd surpRiSe aS He
listEned tO STEve'S story.

'How wiCked Of him!' he crIed.  'But, sTeve, I woNDer he waSn't afrAid
O' thEir hEArIn' AboUt IT.'

'AyE, AnD so DO I,' aNswered hIs CoUsin.  'I BeliEVE, HOwevEr, hE has
Been mEanin' to move to SomE othER paRt o' thE counTry aN' tAke yoU.
Your fOlks aRe Settled a long way Off, aN', thinkin' aS yoU'rE deAd,
They'lL ProbabLy nEveR come baCk here aGAin, So HE'D Be Pretty safe.'

'What shalL I DO, stEve?' asked jack piTEoUsLY.  'I'll ask UNcLe MAt
abOUT it thIs veRY nIght.'

'Don't Make hiM AnGrY,' returnEd The cowBoY kiNdlY; 'but tELl hiM you
haVe heard wHat he'S Done, an' you are boUNd to go to your fOLkS
SOmEHow.  I'Ll tEll him what I ThinK When i meeT HiM in THe strEet.  I
aIn'T A-gOIn' near that house with ThAt womaN therE, so if you want tO
see me, come HERE to-morroW eveNInG.'

'i will, Steve.  Good-Night.'  and Jack darTEd away.

JaCk felT very braVe and deteRMIned when He lEft His CouSIN, bUt his
courage fAILed a LiTtle as hE apProacheD thE hoUse.  the DoOr was open,
And as he dReW nEaR hE heArd hiS Uncle and HiS wiFe TalKing lOUdly, anD
caugHt hiS oWn NAme.

'i'm not suCH a FOOl as To LeT JacK go BaCk to tHem,' hE HeaRd his
unCle say,
, for the matter o' that;an' though  he
d eni edit  aft erwa rds, I'm surei t'strue, an' I'll talk my  mind  t o  him af ore I 'm done . 'S tev elo oke ds ofurio us,  Jack f elt almost  fr ig htened as he as ked
timidl y,'What was it , S teve? T ell me wh athe ha s done . '

'We ll, then,  k i d, lis t en!' sa i d  t he c owboy.  'He never wr o te to say
Moth er was  d e ad , but  ga ve your fo lk s tou ndersta n da s itw as _you_ as
w as buried;s aid  as ho wyou ' d hada bad  f a llan' died te rrib le sudden ,
an't here wa s  no tim e to g et'em  ove r .' 
Jac k' s  ey e shad gro wn round er  a nd la rger w i t h ho rri fied  surp rise as he
li ste nedt o S teve' s sto ry.
' How w ickedof hi m! ' he cried.  'B ut,Steve, Iwon de r h ewasn' t  afrai d
o ' t heir he arin' a b out  i t . ' 
'Aye, and so do I, 'a n sw ered his  cousi n . ' I  believe ,how ever , he ha s
be e nmeanin'to mov e  t osome ot he r part  o ' t hecount r y an ' take  you.
Yo ur fo l ks are settled a long way of f ,a n ', thin kin ' as you're  dea d ,
th ey'l l  p rob a bly n everco m eb ack here again, sohe 'd beprett y safe.'

'Wh at shall I d o , Steve? ' as k ed Jack piteously .  'I 'll ask Un c le Mat
a boutit thisvery nigh t . '

'Don' t m ake  hi m a n g ry ,' returned t h e  cow bo y kindl y;'but te llhim  yo u
h av e heard w hat he's  d on e,  a n'you a r e boundto  go  t o y our f o lks
so mehow .  I 'l lt ell  him wh a tI thin kwh en I  me et  himin t h e s treet. I
ain'ta-g o in'ne ar  that h ouse with tha twoman ther e,  so  if yo u want tosee me, come here to-mo r row eve nin g.'
'I w ill, Stev e. Good- nig h t.'  A nd Jac k dar te d a w a y.

J a c kfel tvery brave a nddeter mi nedwhen he  left his cousin,b uthis
courage f ail ed a l it tle as heap p roa c h ed the house. The door w as op en,
and as hedr ew near  he hea rd hi s  uncleand his w ife talki ng  lou d l y,and
caught  his own  name.

' I 'm no t  s uch a  fo ol asto  le t Jac k go b a ckto th em,' h eheardhis
u nc le say,
, for_the matter_o' that; an' though_he
denied it_afterwards,_I'm sure_it's_true, an' I'll_talk my mind_to him
afore I'm done.'

Steve_looked so furious,_Jack_felt almost frightened as he asked
timidly, 'What was it, Steve?  Tell me what_he_has done.'

'Well,_then,_kid,_listen!' said the cowboy. _'He never wrote to say
Mother_was dead,_but gave your folks to understand as it_was__you_ as
was buried;_said as how you'd had a bad fall an'_died terrible sudden,
an' there was no_time to get_'em_over.'

Jack's_eyes had grown rounder_and larger with horrified surprise as_he
listened to Steve's story.

'How wicked of_him!' he cried.  'But, Steve, I_wonder he wasn't afraid
o' their hearin'_about it.'

'Aye, and so do_I,' answered_his cousin.  'I believe,_however, he has
been_meanin' to_move to some_other part o' the country an'_take you.
Your folks_are settled a long way off,_an',_thinkin' as you're_dead,
they'll_probably_never come_back here again,_so_he'd be_pretty_safe.'

'What shall I do, Steve?' asked_Jack_piteously.  'I'll ask Uncle Mat
about it_this very night.'

'Don't make_him_angry,' returned the cowboy_kindly; 'but tell him you
have_heard what he's done, an' you_are bound_to go_to your folks
somehow.  I'll tell him what I think when_I meet him in the street._ I
ain't a-goin' near_that house_with_that woman there,_so_if you_want to
see me, come here to-morrow evening.'

'I_will, Steve._ Good-night.'  And Jack darted_away.

Jack felt very brave_and_determined when he left his cousin,_but his
courage failed a little as_he approached the house. _The_door_was open,
and as he drew_near he heard his uncle and_his wife talking_loudly, and
caught his own name.

'I'm not such_a_fool as to let Jack go_back_to them,' he heard his
uncle say,