"It wasn't a mare. I tell you it was a snake," insisted Stacy. "I guess I know what I am talking about, and don't you try to make me believe anything different. I won't! I know what I believe, and I believe what I know, and that's the end of it."
"Well, sir, what is the matter with you?" demanded Tom, facing the excited Chinaman.
"Mr. Smith has the willyjiggs, too," answered Emma.
"Me savvy somebody pull queue. Me savvy head almost come off. Ouch!"
"Just a moment. Just a moment," begged Grace. "You say someone pulled your queue?"
"This demands further investigation," spoke up Hippy. "The question now before this tribunal is, who pulled the Chinaman's queue. Emma Dean, did you pull Honorable Smith's queue?"
"All right, all right; don't get all heated up about it. I take it that none of the other ladies tried to scalp our guide. How about you, Stacy?"
Stacy declared that he didn't know anything about it, and cared less, and Tom Gray said the idea that he had done such a thing was preposterous.
"We will leave it to Smith," announced Hippy. "Woo, did Mr. Brown try to pull your halter off?"
"Les, les. Me savvy him pull queue. Him neally pull head off. Woof!"
"I begin to understand. Ladies and gentlemen, the mystery is solved. The Honorable Woo Smith's queue got on Stacy's face and Stacy thought it was a snake. You see how easy it is to be carried away by one's imagination. Stacy, if you raise further disturbance in this outfit I shall require you to roost by yourself. I, for one, at least, need my rest."
"If Woo will get out I'll keep quiet," answered Stacy.
"Don't wolly till to-mollow," advised the Oriental, pawing about like an animal, in search of a suitable place on which to lie down and sleep.
No further disturbance occurred that night, though Stacy refused to turn in until he had seen Woo lie down at some distance from him, and at daybreak the Overlanders were aroused by the "Hi-lee, hi-lo!" of the guide, who was out gathering wood for the breakfast fire.
"Come, folks. Wash and get busy," urged Hippy. "Who is the wrangler this morning?"
"It is Stacy's turn, I believe," replied Tom Gray.
"I don't want to wrangle. I'm too sleepy and too cold," protested the boy.
"That makes no difference. There is to be no shirking in this outfit," answered Uncle Hippy.