and, and during the next couple of hours
recovered from the shock of resisting Lucy's appeal. He hated himself
for the passion he could not subdue. When, however, it had slunk away
for the time being, he began to wonder at her innocence and simplicity.
He could not understand her.

Presently his father and Blinky hunted him up with news of strong
purport plain in their faces.

"Son, Marco is with you to a man!"

"Pard, I guess mebbe I didn't hev them hombres figgered?"

"What happened? Out with it," replied Pan sharply.

"Evans drove out bringin' stuff I bought yesterday," returned his
father. "He was full as a tick of news. By some miracle, only the
Yellow Mine burned. It was gutted, but the bucket brigade saved the
houses on each side.... Hardman's body was found burned to a crisp.
It was identified by a ring. An' his dance-hall girl was found dead
too, burned most as bad as he.... Accordin' to Evans most everybody in
Marco wants to shake hands with Panhandle Smith."

The covered wagons wound slowly down the hill toward Snyder's pasture.
Pan, leading Blink's horse, held to the rear. The day, in some
respects, had been as torturing to him as yesterday--but with Marco far
behind and the open road ahead, calling, beckoning, the strain began to
lessen.

At the pasture gate the drivers halted the wagon teams, waiting for Pan
to come up. Gus had opened the wide-barred gate, and now stood there
with a grin of relief and gladness.

"Drive in," shouted Pan from behind. "We'll camp here tonight."

"Howdy thar, you ole wild-hoss night wrangler," yelled Blinky to Gus.

"Howdy, yourself," was the reply. "You can bet your roll that I never
expected to see you agin. What'd you do to Marco?"

They drove in along the west fence, where a row of trees shaded the
still hot sun.

"Gus, I see our wild horses are still keeping you company," remarked
Pan, as he loosened the cinch of his saddle.

"Shore. But they ain't so wild no more. I've fooled around with them
for two days now," replied Gus.

Pan smacked Sorrel on the flank: "There! Go take a look at your rival,
Whitefoot." But the sorrel hung around camp. He had been spoiled by
an occasional nose bag of grain. Pan lent a hand all around, and took
note of the fact that Blinky lingered long around his wagon. Pan
peeped over the wagon side. Louise lay on her side with face exposed.
It was pale, with eyelids tight. In sleep her features betrayed how