dn't see it," suggested Polly, sweetly.

"I guess that's the answer. There, I reckon that harness will take us as
far as Athens, if we have a bit of luck. If you'll bring out what you want
to take, Mrs. Conrad, we'll pack it in the wagon."

"I've only a couple of suitcases. My trunks went by rail to the
border--that is, they started."

"How about you, Herrick? Afraid we can't take the piano."

Herrick looked up in some surprise. "Me?" he said. "I am not going with
you, my friend."

"Not going with us? But, Victor, you can't stay here alone." Mrs. Conrad's
voice had real solicitude in it.

"Why not? Li will return and you shall send him first to Conejo to buy
provisions. When things settle down, my men will come back and we shall go
to work again."

"You're going to stick by the ranch?" demanded Scott.

"It is my home. What else have I?" The little man's voice was sad.

"Well, maybe you're right," said Scott, after a moment. "The best way to
hang on to property just now is to sit down on it. We'll send Li over to
Conejo with the wagon and he can load up. If you get into trouble,
remember you've got friends in this country." And the two men shook hands
heartily as Scott tramped off to the wagon.

Polly did not see the parting between the musician and Clara Conrad, but
the latter looked, when she came out of the house, as though she had been
crying, and the little man looked more pathetic than ever as he stood
alone in the doorway waving them good-bye.

"Do you think he ought to say there?" demanded Polly, as Scott helped her
into the wagon.

"No, I don't, but he's obstinate and you can't move him once he makes up
his mind. There's a lot of the woman in every artistic man, I believe,"
grunted Scott, disgustedly.

A little later, with the two Athens horses hitched to the mountain wagon,
the party started out, Hard driving. The road led out through the hills
where the fighting had been only a few hours ago. There was no sign of
what had happened. It was a poor road, narrow, rough and little used.
There were ruts in it and chuck-holes, turns and an occasional arroyo. It
was rather ghostly, too, driving at this hour; the chill, early morning
feel of the air, the fading moon, the faint pinkness hanging over the
mountains suggesting the coming dawn.

"One thing you miss around here is the cattle," said Scott. "Up in New
Mexico you'd be starting out this time in the morning and you'd see the
range cattle looking