still on his face, but it brightened somewhat at sight of her. Lucy
greeted him as always.

"Farlane tells me you handled the King great--better 'n Van has worked
him lately," said Bostil. "But don't tell him I told you."

That was sweet praise from Farlane. "Oh, Dad, it could hardly be true,"
expostulated Lucy. "Both you and Farlane are a little sore at Van now."

"I'm a lot sore," replied Bostil, gruffly.

"Anyway, how did Farlane know how I handled Sage King?" queried Lucy.

"Wal, every hair on a hoss talks to Farlane, so Holley says.... Lucy,
you take the King out every day for a while. Ride him now an' watch
out! Joel Creech was in the village to-day. He sure sneaked when he
seen me. He's up to some mischief."

Lucy did not want to lie and she did not know what to say. Presently
Bostil bade her good night. Lucy endeavored to read, but her mind
continually wandered back to the adventure of the day.

Next morning she had difficulty in concealing her impatience, but luck
favored her. Bostil was not in evidence, and Farlane, for once, could
spare no more time than it took to saddle Sage King. Lucy rode out into
the sage, pretty sure that no one watched her.

She had hidden the packs near the tallest bunch of greasewood along the
trail; and when she halted behind it she had no fear of being seen from
the corrals. She got the packs. The light one was not hard to tie back
of the saddle, but the large one was a very different matter. She
decided to carry it in front. There was a good-sized rock near, upon
which she stepped, leading Sage King alongside; and after an
exceedingly trying moment she got up, holding the pack. For a wonder
Sage King behaved well.

Then she started off, holding the pack across her lap, and she tried
the King's several gaits to see which one would lend itself more
comfortably to the task before her. The trouble was that Sage King had
no slow gait, even his walk was fast. And Lucy was compelled to hold
him into that. She wanted to hurry, but that seemed out of the
question. She tried to keep from gazing out toward the monuments,
because they were so far away.

How would she find the crippled rider? It flashed into her mind that
she might find him dead, and this seemed horrible. But her common sense
persuaded her that she would find him alive and better. The pack was
hard to hold, and Sage King fretted at the monotonous walk. The hours
dragged. The sun grew hot. And it was noon, almost, w