What's your
name?"
"Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names."
"Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?"
"Where he wouldn't know I was?" whispered the boy eagerly.
"If you like. I know a ranch where you'd be right welcome."
"I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try
to pay my way, and I don't eat much," Frank cried, his eyes as
appealing as a homeless puppy's.
Bucky smiled. "I expect they can stand all you eat without going
to the poorhouse. It's a bargain then. I'll take you out there
to-morrow."
"You're so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before."
Tears stood in the big eyes and splashed over.
"Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act
like a man," advised his new friend brusquely.
"I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn't
ask me to go with you. I--I can't tell you anything more than
that," the youngster sobbed.
"Oh, well. What's the diff? You're making a new start to-day.
Ain't that right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Call me Bucky."
"Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean."
A hand fell on the ranger's shoulder and a voice in his ear.
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