n of his miner's cap and jammed the cap tightly
on his head.

"Better change your mind, Charley. Come along. We'll rout somebody out
and order a dish of stewed eggs.

"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The farther off from England the nearer 'tis to France;
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you--won't you----"

"'No, I won't! I told you once!'" snapped the beloved snail.

"Here's the little eohippus horse then." As Charley took it Jeff wrung
his hand. "By George, I've got to change my notion of Arcadia people. If
there's many like you and Griffith, Arcadia's going to crowd the map!...
Well--so long!"

"It looks awful wide, Jeff!"

"Oh, I'll be all right--swim it myself if the horse plays out--and if I
don't have no cramps, as I might, of course, after this ride. Well--here
goes nothin'! Take care of the little horse. I hope he brings you good
luck!"

"Well--so long, then!"

Bransford rode into the muddy waters. They came to the horse's breast,
his neck; he plunged in, sank, rose, and was borne away down the swift
current, breasting the flood stoutly--and so went quartering across to
the farther bank. It took a long time. It was quite light when the horse
found footing on a sandbar half a mile below, rested, and splashed
whitely through the shallows to the bank. Gibson swung his sombrero.
Jeff waved his hand, rode to the fringing bushes, and was gone.

CHAPTER XVI

THE LAND OF AFTERNOON

"Dreaming once more love's old sad dream divine."

Los Banos de Santa Eulalia Del Norte, otherwise known as Mud Springs, is
a Mexican hamlet with one street of about the same length. Los Banos and
Co. lies in a loop of the Rio Grande, half of a long day from El Paso,
in mere miles; otherwise a contemporary of Damascus and Arpad.

Thither, mindful of the hot springs which supply the preliminaries of
the name, Mr. Bransford made his way: mindful too, of sturdy old Don
Francisco, a friend twice bound by ancient service given and returned.

He climbed the slow long ridges to the high _mesa_: for the river bent
here in a long ox-bow, where a bold promontory shouldered far out to bar
the way: weary miles were to be saved by crossing the neck of this
ox-bow, and the tough horse tired and lagged.

The slow sun rose as he reached the Rim. It showed the wide expanse of
desert behind him, flooded with trembling light; eastward, beyond the
ri