One day, early in June, Blaine announced to his family that he would close the house at Tule Lake Ranch for the summer.

“I’ve got hold of a place on Wild Goose Lake,” he said. “It’s all run down an’ cabins ain’t fit for women folks. But we’ll put up some tents for you an’ the kids.”

Marvie and Dall, who happened at the time to be in the good graces of their father, let out yelps of joy. Ina was taken aback, but she managed otherwise to hide her own amaze and delight. Mrs. Blaine did not evince any regrets at the idea of closing the big house for the summer.

“Sort of summer outin’, as they call it in town,” went on Blaine, blandly. “Lots of families with means do this nowadays. The McAdams go to Upper Klamath Lake…. Now as I expect to have large interests around Wild Goose Lake an’ up Forlorn River, we may just as well start developin’ a summer place up there. Reckon it’s about forty miles, considerable higher an’ cooler. There’s a fine grove of trees a little ways from the cabins, an’ I aim to put up the tents in it. The problem is water. But that’s a terrible problem everywhere this year. I’ve sent well–diggers. If they fail to reach water Setter has a plan he thinks will work. So I reckon you can all pack up an’ get ready to move.”

Whereupon there followed considerable excitement and bustle in the Blaine household. Marvie’s first statement to Ina, when they were alone, proved the predominance of his ruling passion.

“Sis, the fishin’ in Forlorn River is grand. Only ten miles across the lake,” he whispered, with wide bright eyes.

“But, Marvie, the lake and river are drying up, I hear,” replied Ina, who was conscious of disturbing and not unpleasant emotions on her own behalf.

“There’re spring holes in Forlorn River an’ the trout will collect there,” asserted the boy. “Ben Ide will show us.”

Ina found herself blushing, and consciousness of the fact brought an added wave of scarlet.

“Say, Sis, you’re as red as a beet,” declared Marvie, wonderingly.

“Am I? … Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Ina, feeling her hot cheeks. But she knew it was a great deal.

Marvie leaned close to her and his loyal eyes pierced her. “Ben lives across the lake, at the mouth of the river. We can see his home from where we’ll be campin’.”

“Well, what of that?” queried Ina, smiling at him.

“Why, nothin’ much, except you can bet I’ll slip over there to see Ben, an’ take you along if you want to go.”

“Marvie, you think I’ll want to?” went on Ina, composedly. Marvie was showing depths hitherto unsuspected.

“I’ve a hunch you will,” declared the boy, bluntly. “Outside of ridin’ an’ fishin’! … Now listen, Sis. I knew about this plan of dad’s before he sprung it on us. I heard him an’ Less Setter talkin’ out by the barn. They were talkin’ about gettin’ hold of Ben Ide’s water an’ land. Dad wanted to buy from Ben, but Setter swore he was goin’ to run Ben out of the country. An’, Ina, after that I heard one of our cowboys say Setter had dad buffaloed.”