ly notable for
remark. At half past two Dick rose in his stirrups with a great shout.
Stars were glittering through the rifted clouds, and beyond him, out of
the plain, rose two spires, a flagstaff, and a straggling line of black
objects. Dick jingled his spurs and swung his _riata_, Jovita bounded
forward, and in another moment they swept into Tuttleville, and drew up
before the wooden piazza of "The Hotel of All Nations."

What transpired that night at Tuttleville is not strictly a part of this
record. Briefly I may state, however, that after Jovita had been handed
over to a sleepy ostler, whom she at once kicked into unpleasant
consciousness, Dick sallied out with the barkeeper for a tour of the
sleeping town. Lights still gleamed from a few saloons and gambling
houses; but, avoiding these, they stopped before several closed shops,
and by persistent tapping and judicious outcry roused the proprietors
from their beds, and made them unbar the doors of their magazines and
expose their wares. Sometimes they were met by curses, but oftener by
interest and some concern in their needs. It was three o'clock before
this pleasantry was given over, and with a small waterproof bag of India
rubber strapped on his shoulders Dick returned to the hotel. And then he
sprang to the saddle, and dashed down the lonely street and out into the
lonelier plain, where presently the lights, the black line of houses,
the spires, and the flagstaff sank into the earth behind him again and
were lost in the distance.

The storm had cleared away, the air was brisk and cold, the outlines of
adjacent landmarks were distinct, but it was half-past four before Dick
reached the meeting-house and the crossing of the country road. To avoid
the rising grade he had taken a longer and more circuitous road, in
whose viscid mud Jovita sank fetlock deep at every bound. It was a poor
preparation for a steady ascent of five miles more; but Jovita,
gathering her legs under her, took it with her usual blind, unreasoning
fury, and a half hour later reached the long level that led to
Rattlesnake Creek. Another half hour would bring him to the Creek. He
threw the reins lightly upon the neck of the mare, chirruped to her, and
began to sing.

Suddenly Jovita shied with a bound that would have unseated a less
practised rider. Hanging to her rein was a figure that had leaped from
the bank, and at the same time from the road before her arose a shadowy
horse and rider. "Th