h shorter
way, but you'd better go out the Red Range road and turn north at the
third draw well on to the divide. It gets pretty steep near the river,
so you have to keep to the west and turn square at the draw. If it
wasn't so warm you might go on to Red Range for some depositions for me.
But never mind, Dave Mead is going up there Monday, anyhow. Will you
ride the pony?"

"No, I'll go out in the buggy."

"And take some girl along? Well, don't forget your errand. Be sure to
note the lay of the land. There's no building, I believe, but a little
stone cabin and it's been empty for years; but you can see. Be sure to
examine everything in that cabin carefully. Stop at the courthouse as
you go out, and get the surveyor's map and some other directions."

It was a hot summer day, with that thin, dry burning in the air that the
light Kansas zephyr fanned back in little rippling waves. My horses were
of the Indian pony breed, able to go in heat or cold. Most enduring and
least handsome of the whole horse family, with temper ranging from
moderately vicious to supremely devilish, is this Indian pony of the
Plains.

Marjie was in the buggy beside me when I stopped at the courthouse for
instructions. Lettie Conlow was passing and came to the buggy's side.

"Where are you going, Marjie?" she asked. There was a sullen minor tone
in her voice.

"With Phil, out somewhere. Where is it you are going, Phil?"

I was tying the ponies. They never learned how to stand unanchored a
minute.

"Out north on the Red Range prairie to buy a couple of quarters," I
replied carelessly and ran up the courthouse steps.

"Well, well, well," Cam Gentry roared as he ambled up to the buggy.
Cam's voice was loud in proportion as his range of vision was short.
"You two gettin' ready to elope? An' he's goin' to git his dad to back
him up gettin' a farm. Now, Marjie, why'd you run off? Let us see the
performance an' hear Dr. Hemingway say the words in the Presbyterian
Church. Or maybe you're goin' to hunt up Dodd. He went toward Santy Fee
when he put out of here after the War."

Cam could be heard in every corner of the public square. I was at the
open window of my father's office. Looking out, I saw Lettie staring
angrily at Cam, who couldn't see her face. She had never seemed less
attractive to me. She had a flashy coloring, and she made the most of
ornaments. Some people called her good-looking. Beside Marjie, she was
as the wild yoncopin to the