eached Littleton at dark. It had grown to be a sizable
settlement. Pan treated himself to a room at the new hotel, and after
supper went out to find somebody he knew. It was Saturday night and
the town was full of riders and ranchers. He expected to meet an old
acquaintance any moment, but to his further surprise he did not.
Finally he went to Campbell's store, long a fixture in the settlement
of that country. John Campbell, huge of build, with his long beard and
ruddy face, appeared exactly the same as when he used to give Pan a
stick of candy. It did seem a long time, now. Campbell did not
recognize him.

"Howdy, stranger, reckon you've got the best of me," he replied to
Pan's question, and he sized up the tall lithe rider with curious and
appreciating eyes.

"Now, John, you used to give me a stick of candy, every time I came to
town," said Pan, with a laugh.

"Wal, I done that for every Tom, Dick an' Harry of a kid in this heah
country," returned the old man, stroking his beard. "But durn if I
recollect you."

"Panhandle Smith," announced Pan, with just a little diffidence.
Perhaps if he was not remembered personally he might have the good luck
to be unknown in reputation.

"Wal--Pan, if 't ain't you, by gosh!" ejaculated Campbell, cordially,
and there was unmistakable welcome in his grip. "But no one here will
ever recognize you. Say, you've sprung up. We've heerd a lot about
you--nothin' of late years, though, now I tax myself... Cowboy, you've
seen some range life, if talk is true."

"You mustn't believe all you hear, Mr. Campbell," replied Pan, with a
smile. "I'd like to know about my dad and mother."

"Wal, haven't you heerd?" queried Campbell, hesitatingly.

"What?" flashed Pan, noting the other's sudden change to gravity.
"It's two years and more since I got a letter from Mother. I wrote a
couple of times, but she never answered."

"You ought to have come home long ago," said Campbell. "Your father
lost his cattle. Old deal with Hardman that stood for years. Mebbe
you never knowed about it. There are ranchers around here who swear
Hardman drove sharp deals. Wal, your father sold the homestead an'
left. Reckon it's been over a year."

"Where'd they go?"

"Your pa never told me where, but I heerd afterward that he hit
Hardman's trail an' went to western New Mexico. Marco is the name of
the place. New country up there. Gold an' silver minin', some cattle
outfits goin' in, an