“Setter drove off fer Klamath,” announced Marvie, with fine satisfaction. “Heerd him say he’d be gone a week on business. But Bill Sneed said Setter was goin’ to a dentist to have the teeth put back that Ben Ide knocked out.”

Marvie had other news which he reserved for Ina’s private ear when after supper she lay in her hammock watching the sunset. Some of the cowboys had been at Forlorn River that day. Ben Ide had come home again. He had a pasture full of the finest wild horses ever captured in that country. In another few days Ben’s partner and the Indian would get back with the last of the horses caught at the lava beds, and then they would make a prolonged stay at the ranch.

“An’ you bet I’m ridin’ over to see Ben soon as dad’s gone,” averred Marvie. “You knew, Sis, didn’t you, about dad’s goin’?”

“No, I didn’t,” replied Ina, sitting up with interest. “When? Where?”

“To–morrow, the boys said. I’m sure gettin’ up early so I’ll be away when dad leaves. Then he can’t tell me not to do nothin’. He’s goin’ with the chuck wagon an’ outfit of cowboys to one of his ranches near Silver Meadow. Lots of talk among the men about this Silver Meadow. I’m darned curious, fer they always shut up when they see me.”

“Why don’t you keep out of sight, then?” asked Ina.

“I forget sometimes. Say, Ina, this’ll be a good chance for you to ride over to Forlorn River with me,” returned Marvie, lowering his voice.

“Oh, Marvie!” murmured Ina. “I—I couldn’t think of it now.”

“Why, sure, you could,” whispered the tempter. “Are you afraid of dad an’ old Pop–eyes?”

“It’s not on their account,” said Ina. “No—Marvie, I can’t.”

“Aw, you said you would. What ails you now? Ben will be tickled stiff. He’ll show us that spring hole under the bank which the boys say is chuck–full of trout. We won’t let anybody see us an’ dad’ll never know…. Ina, I’d go anywheres with you.”

She was weak, she was helpless, she was won. Marvie did not need to discourse so eloquently, had he but known.

“All right, I’ll go—some day,” she replied, trying to pretend it was his persuasion and not her longing that prompted the reconsideration. What a relief when Marvie went whooping and bounding away! She could sink back in the hammock, unseen, and relax, and be herself, communing with her traitor heart.

Nevertheless the hammock did not hold her long. A restless mood came upon her. To and fro under the junipers she walked, until action and reason had restored a semblance to calm thought. Meanwhile the sun had sunk behind the gray sage mountains. The light, however, still shone on the far slopes of the basin, and the uplands beyond leading to the black ranges and the crowning clouds of gold and rose.