wn the day's march by half.

These things learned, Ezram strolled over to his young partner. And at
that moment he revealed the possession of a talent that neither he nor
any of his friends had ever suspected. The stage had lost an artist of
no mean ability when Ezra Melville had taken to the cattle business.
Outwardly, to the last, little lines about his lips and eyes, he was his
genial, optimistic, droll old self. His eye twinkled, his face beamed in
the gray stubble, his voice was rollicking with the fun of life the same
as ever. And like Pagliacci in his masque there was not the slightest
exterior sign of the fear and despair that chilled his heart.

"What have you and your poor victim been talking about, all this time?"
Ben asked.

"Oh, just a gab-fest--a tat-i-tat as you'd call it. But you know, Ben,
I've got a idea all a-sudden." Ben straightened, lighted his pipe, and
prepared to listen.

"This old boy tells me that we'd save just twelve miles by striking off
front here, instead of goin' into town. Snowy Gulch is six miles, and we
have to come back to this very place. What's the use of goin' into town
at all?"

"Good heavens, Ez? Have you forgotten we've got to get supplies? And
your brother's gun--and his dog?"

"How do you know he's got a dog?"

"He said a pup, didn't he? But it may be an elephant for all I know. Of
course, we've got to go on in."

"Yes, I know--one of us has. But, Ben, it seems to me that one of us
ought to strike off now and figure out the way and sort of get located.
One of us could take a little food and a couple of blankets and make it
through in less than a day. Half a day, almost. Then we could have the
cabin all ready, and everything laid out for to begin work. He could
blaze any dim spots in the trail and save time for the other feller,
comin' with the horses."

"Oh, it would be all right," Ben began rather doubtfully. "I don't see
that much is to be gained by it. But I'll strike off on foot, if you
want me to."

Ezram's mind was flashing with thoughts like lightning, and his answer
was ready. "Ben, if you don't mind, I'll do that," he said. "I can get
along without gazin' at the sky-scrapers of Snowy Gulch, and to tell the
truth, that twelve miles of extra walkin' don't appeal to me one bit.
I'd as soon have you tend to all the things in town."

"But you'd get a ride, if you waited--"

"I hate a horse, anyway--"

"You've surely changed a lot since the war."

"I was