One by one the boys rolled from their beds. Pan was the only one who had to pull on his boots. Somebody found soap and towel, which they fought over. The towel had not been clean before this onslaught.

Afterward it was unrecognizable. Gus cooked breakfast which, judged from the attack upon it, was creditable to him.

"Wal, our hosses are heah," said Blinky, cheerfully. "Reckon I was afeared they'd jump the fence. We may have a little h.e.l.l on the start."

"Blink, you don't aim to tie up their feet again, do you?" inquired Pan anxiously.

"Nope. They had all they wanted of thet. Mebbe they'll try to bust away first off. But our hosses are fresh, too. I'm gamblin' in three hours we'll have them in your dad's corral."

"Then we don't have to drive through Marco?"

"Sh.o.r.e not. We're on the main road thet pa.s.ses your dad's. Reckon it's aboot eight miles or so."

"Say, Blink, do we take this road on our way south to Siccane?"

"Yep. It's the only road. You come in on it by stage. It runs north and south. Not very good road this way out of Marco."

"Then, by golly, we can leave our new horses here," exclaimed Pan gladly.

"Wal, I'll be goldarned. Where's my haid? Sh.o.r.e we can. It's a first-rate pasture, plenty of water, an' fair gra.s.s. But I'll have to go in town, thet's d.a.m.n sh.o.r.e, you know. An' we cain't leave these hosses heah unguarded."

"Gus, will you and Brown stay here? We'll leave grub and outfit."

Brown had to refuse, and explained that he was keen to get back to his mining claim, which he believed now he would be able to work.

"I'll stay," said Gus. "It's a good idee. Workin' with these hosses a day or two will get 'em fit to travel. An' I reckon I'd like a job with you, far as Siccane anyway."

"You've got it, and after we reach Siccane, too, if you want one,"

replied Pan quickly.

The deal was settled to the satisfaction of all concerned.

"How aboot our pack hosses?" asked Blinky. "Course Charley will have to take his, but will we need ours? I mean will we have to pack them from heah?"

"No, all that stuff can go in the wagons," replied Pan. "We'll need three wagons, anyhow. Maybe more. Dad, how much of an outfit have you at home?"

"You saw it, son," said Smith, with a laugh. "Mine would go in a saddlebag. But I reckon the women folks will have a wagon load."

"Rustle. I'm ararin' to go," yelled Pan, striding out into the pasture to catch his horse. In the exuberance of the moment Pan would have liked to try conclusions with the white-footed stallion or the blue roan, but he could not spare the time. He led Sorrel back to camp and saddled him. Blinky and Pan's father were also saddling their mounts.

"I'll take it easy," explained Charley Brown, who had made no move.

"My claim is over here in the hills not very far."

"Brown, I'm sorry you won't go south with us," said Pan warmly, as he shook hands with the miner. "You've sure been a help. And I'm glad we've--well, had something to do with removing the claim jumpers."

As Pan rode out that morning on the sorrel, to face north on the road to Marco, he found it hard to contain himself. This hour was the very first in which he could let himself think of the glorious fulfillment of his dream.

His father was too lame to ride fast and Pan, much as he longed to rush, did not want to leave him behind. But it was utterly impossible for Pan to enter into the animated conversation carried on by his father and Blinky. They were talking wagons, teams, harness, grain, homesteads and what not. Pan rode alone, a little ahead of them.

Almost, he loved this wild and rugged land. But that was the ecstasy of the moment. This iron country was too cut up by mountains, with valleys too bare and waterless, to suit Pan. Not to include the rough and violent element of men attracted by gold!

Nevertheless on this bright autumn morning there was a glamour over valley and ridge, black slope and snowy peak, and the dim distant ranges. The sky was as blue as the inside of a columbine, a rich and beautiful light of gold gilded the wall of rock that boldly cropped out of the mountainside; and the wide sweeping expanse of sage lost itself in a deep purple horizon. Ravens and magpies crossed Pan's glad eyesight. Jack rabbits bounded down the aisles between the sage bushes. Far out on the plain he descried antelope, moving away with their telltale white rumps. The air was sweet, intoxicating, full of cedar fragrance and the cool breath from off the heights.

While he saw and felt all this his mind scintillated with thoughts of Lucy Blake. He would see her presently, have the joy of surprising her into betrayal of love. He fancied her wide eyes of changing dark blue, and the swift flame of scarlet that so readily stained her neck and cheek.

He would tell her about the great good fortune that had befallen him; and about the beautiful mare, Little Bay, he had captured for her; and now they could talk and plan endlessly, all the way down to Siccane.

When would Lucy marry him? That was a staggering question. His heart swelled to bursting. Had he the courage to ask her at once? He tried to see the matter from Lucy's point of view, but without much success.

Dreaming thus, Pan rode along without being aware of the time or distance.

"Hey, pard," called Blinky, in loud banter. "Are you goin' to ride past where your gurl lives?"

With a violent start Pan wheeled his horse. He saw that he had indeed ridden beyond the entrance to a farm, which upon second look he recognized. It was, however, an angle with which he had not been familiar. The corrals and barn and house were hidden in trees.

"I'm loco, all right," he replied with a little laugh.

Through gate and lane they galloped, on to the corral, and round that to the barn. This was only a short distance to the house. Pan leaped from his horse and ran.

With an uplift of his heart that was almost pain, he rushed round the corner of the house to the vine-covered porch.

The door was shut. Stealthily he tiptoed across the porch to knock.

No answer! He tried the door. Locked! A quiver ran through him.

"Strange," he muttered, "not home this early."

He peered through the window, to see on floor and table ample evidence of recent packing. That gave check to a creeping blankness which was benumbing Pan. He went on to look into his mother's bedroom. The bed looked as if it had been used during the night and had not been made up. Perhaps his mother and Lucy had gone into Marco to purchase necessities.

"But--didn't I tell Lucy not to go?" he queried, in bewilderment.

Resolutely he cast out doubtful speculations. There could hardly be anything wrong. Hurriedly he returned to the barn.

"Wal, I'll tell you," Blinky was holding forth blandly, "this heah grubbin' around without a home an' a woman ain't no good. I'm sh.o.r.e through. I'm agoin'--"

"n.o.body home," interrupted Pan.

"Well, that's nothin' to make you pale round the gills," returned his father. "They're gone to town. Mother had a lot of buyin' to do."

"But I particularly told Lucy to stay here."

"S'pose you did," interposed Blinky. "Thet's nothin'. You don't expect this heah gurl to mind you."

"No time for joking, Blink," said Pan curtly. "It just doesn't set right on my chest. I've got to find Lucy p.r.o.nto. But where to go!"

With a single step he reached his stirrup and swung into his saddle.

"Pan, Lucy an' the wife will be in one of the stores. Don't worry about them. Why, they did all our buyin'."

"I tell you I don't like it," snapped Pan. "It's not what I think, but what I feel. All the same, wherever they are it doesn't change our plans. I'll sure find them, and tell them we're packing to leave p.r.o.nto..... Now, Dad, buy three wagons and teams, grain, grub, and whatever else we need for two weeks or more on the road. Soon as I find Lucy and Mother I'll meet you and help you with the buying."