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Where you going, Dave?" asked Hiram, as his friend moved out of the shed. "Why, I'm anxious to see Mr. King as soon as I can. I have something very important to talk about with him." "It's about that rush telegram?" "Yes, Hiram." "What did it mean?" "When we meet with Mr. King you shall, hear all about it, Hiram." "Well, Mr. King isn't home yet," explained Hiram. Dave looked disappointed.
It was another clear day, but the breeze from the mountains was fresher, so that riding was not so tiresome as it had been on the first day out. The trail was wide, in fact often used by wagons and carts, so that our friends could ride two abreast. "Not much of a farming country around here," remarked Dave, as he looked at the general barrenness of the aspect.
The next minute, with the ease of one long practised in such leaps, Dave flew over and resumed his load. Several more long lanes of water were cleared in this way, Dave leading the boys a good round, and taking them at last to his house, pretty well laden with eggs, where he set before them a loaf and butter, and lit a fire. "Theer, you can boil your eggs," he said, "and mak' a meal.
"Surely, you will," grinned Dick. "You've got to!" "I've been studying until all the words on a page seem to run together, and I don't know one word from another," complained Dave. "Then drop study -if you dare to!" "I'm thinking of it," proposed Darrin seriously. "Actually, I've been boning so that the whole thing gets on my nerves, and stays there like a cargo of lead."
Unfortunately Dave was going west instead of south. Every step of the pony was carrying him nearer the roof of the continent, nearer the passes of the front range which lead, by divers valleys and higher mountains beyond, to the snowclad regions of eternal white. Up in this altitude it was too cold to camp out without a fire and blankets.
Tom Tallington looked eagerly at the straight-billed, long-legged, black-and-white bird, but shook his head, while Chip, the dog, who had seated himself with his nose close to the bunch, uttered one short sharp bark. "I say, Dave, what's this bird?" said Dick. The man did not turn his head, but stood staring at the fire, and said, in a husky voice, what sounded like "Scatcher!"
Dave still clung fast to his team, and, now that the terrifying rival no longer pursued them, they were soon brought to a standstill. Having pacified them he tied them to a post and returned to the stream. The car sat in the middle; the girl had put her feet on the seat beside her, and the swift water flowed by a few inches below.
He had no difficulty in catching the pony, as it was quite exhausted from the run. And thus leading his prize, Dave started back. Mr. Bellmore, who had done as Dave had, taken a long drink and a wash, was also much refreshed. "It surely was tough luck," remarked the engineer, "but it couldn't be helped. We did our best!" "I should say so!" exclaimed Dave.
"But we'll get yore record straightened out, anyhow, so that won't stand against you. I know one li'l' girl will be tickled to hear the news. Joy always has stuck out that you were treated shameful." "I reckon I'll not go up to your house to-night," Dave said in a carefully modulated voice. "I'm dirty and unshaven, and anyhow I'd rather not go to-night." Crawford refused to accept this excuse.
"And, by crickets, if you were here, Dick, I'd certainly try it." "Try it anyway, then," urged Prescott. "Not unless you balk at it," returned Darrin. "I'm not going to balk at it," retorted Dick, flushing just a bit. "But you spoke of it first, Dave, and I think you ought to have first chance at the reward." "Tell you what I'll do," proposed Darrin, seriously.
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