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Mortimer, the minister, comes down the street in company with his deacon, Blinky Lockwood. They are discussing someone in subdued tones, but I catch references to a worthy young man and the vacancy in the choir. Josie Lockwood rustles into hearing with Bessie Gabriel in tow. Josie is rattling volubly, but with a hint of the confidential in her tone.
The parade, as Blinky had called it, made only a few miles an hour, and sometimes this advance was not wholly in the right direction. Nevertheless the hours seemed to fly. There was no rest for horses or men. The afternoon had begun to wane before the horses had all made up their minds that fighting and plunging was of no avail.
"I'd like that myself," admitted Pan thoughtfully. "If you've got good gentle teams maybe Mother an' Lucy can take turns. We'll try it, anyhow." "I'll help you hitch up," said Smith, following Pan out. "Son, do you look for any trouble this mornin'?" "Lord no. I'm not looking for trouble," replied Pan. "I've sure had enough." "Huh!" ejaculated Blinky. "Your dad means any backfire from Marco.
"Blinky, trapping these wild horses and handling them are two different things," remarked Pan thoughtfully. "Reckon I'll have to pass the buck to you." "Wal, pard, I'm shore there. We'll chase all the hosses into the big corral. Then we'll pick out one at a time, an' if we cain't rope him without scarin' the bunch too bad we'll chase him into the small corral." "Ah-uh! All right.
With cattle and horses some fine open grassy rolling country where nobody ever heard of Blinky Moran and Panhandle Smith." "Pard, it ain't my right name, either," mumbled Blinky, leaning against Pan. He was crying. "No difference," replied Pan, holding the boy tight a moment. "Brace up, now, Blink. It's all settled. Go to bed now, I'll help Gus with the horses."
Next morning, in the sweet cedar-tanged air and the rosy-gold of the sunrise, Pan was himself again, keen for the day. "Pard, you get first pick of the wild hosses," announced Blinky. "No, we'll share even," declared Pan. "Say, boy, reckon we'd not had any hosses this mawnin' but fer you," rejoined his comrade. "An' some of us might not hev been so lively an' full of joy. Look at your dad!
Blinky scrambled to his bunk, and Pauline retired to elaborate the fascinating character of Filipo in another chapter of her book of adventure. She did not realize how late it was when at last she put down her pen and moved with soft, slippered steps to the door of the cabin. Over the great vault of the heavens the stars were sprinkled like silver dust.
"Ahuh," said Blinky, quietly. "Reckon I savvy. You wouldn't feel thet way fer nothin'." "Blink, I'm damn glad you're with me," rejoined Pan feelingly, turning to face his comrade. "No use to bluff with you. I wish to heaven I could say otherwise, but I'm afraid there's something wrong." "Shore.
Pan pitied her with all his heart, yet he was glad indeed she had broken down. It had been easier than he had anticipated. Then he espied Blinky coming in manifest concern. "Pard," said Pan in his ear, "you've a pat hand. Play it for all you're worth." The wagons rolled down the long winding open road.
But you've ruined my girl ... and me! You've sent me to hell. I ought to kill you." "Pard, shore we mushn't kill thish heah parson just yet," drawled Blinky, thickly. "He'll come in handy." "Ahuh! Right you are, Blinky," returned Pan, with a ghastly pretense of gaiety. "Parson, stay right here till we come for you. Maybe you make up a little for the wrong you did one girl."
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