e should have. Mr. Howard has
been so very considerate as to offer us a wagon and horses and even a
driver. I think, my dear, that we would do well to drive into Big Run,
which I understand is a progressive community with an excellent store.
We can get what we require there and the next day return to the Last
Ridge.'

Only approval greeted his words. Howard, it appeared, had business in
Big Run and would make the trip with them; Carr judged that it was time
for him to be clearing out, and his way led through Big Run. So they
hurried through breakfast and started.

Tod Barstow handled the reins of the four mules; beside him on the
high, rocking seat, sat Longstreet. During his sojourn on the ranch he
had acquired a big bright-red bandana handkerchief which now was
knotted loosely about his sun-reddened throat; the former crease in his
big hat had given place to a tall peak: he wore a pair of leather
wrist-cuffs which he had purchased from Barbee. Barstow grunted and
turned the grunt into a shrill yell directed at his mules; they knew
his voice and jammed their necks deep into their collars, taking the
road at a run. Longstreet, taken unawares, bounced and came
dangerously near toppling off the seat. Then with both hands he clung
to the iron guard-rod at the back of the seat and took his joy out of a
new mode of travel.

Helen had elected to go on horseback. Howard had brought out for her a
pretty little mare, coal-black and slender-limbed, but sufficiently
gentle. Barbee, who had been watching, suddenly set his toe in his own
stirrup and went up into the saddle, racing on to overtake and pass the
wagon. Howard and Carr glanced swiftly at each other; then their eyes
went to the girl. Howard helped her to mount and reined in at her
right, Carr dropped into place at her left, and so, the three abreast,
they followed Barbee.

They rode slowly, and now Howard, now Carr, told her of the points of
interest along the trail. When they crossed the lower end of the
valley and came to the top of the gentle slope extending along its
eastern edge, Helen made a discovery. All these latter days she had
thought of the desert as behind her, lying all to the westward. Now
she understood how the ranch was aptly named Desert Valley; it was a
freak, an oasis, a fertile valley with desert lands to east as well as
west, and to north and south. When they had ridden down the far slope
of the hills they were once more upon the