CHAPTER XIV.
Frosty Disappears.
On the way back to the ranch I overtook Frosty mooning along at a walk, with his shoulders humped in the way a man has when he's thinking pretty hard.

I had left Frosty with the round-up, and I was pretty much surprised to see him here.

I didn't feel in the mood for conversation, even with him; but, to be decent, I spurred up alongside and said hello, and where had he come from?
There was nothing in that for a man to get uppish about, but he turned and actually glared at me.
"I might be an inquisitive son-of-a-gun and ask you the same thing," he growled.
"Yes, you might," I agreed.

"But, if you did, I'd be apt to tell you to depart immediately for a place called Gehenna--which is polite for hell." "Well, same here," he retorted laconically; and that ended our conversation, though we rode stirrup to stirrup for eight miles.
I can't say that, after the first shock of surprise, I gave much time to wondering what brought Frosty home.

I took it he had had a row with the wagon-boss.