ll be no 'salting down' done, either--yet awhile. I hope things
won't shrink too much in the washing; but the real-estate hot air of the
past few years must cause some trouble when the payments deferred begin
to make the heart sick. The Trust Company will be called on to make good
some of its guaranties--and must do it. The banks must be kept strong;
and with two millions to sweeten the pot we shall be with 'em to the
finish. Why, they can't beat us! And don't forget that right now is the
most prosperous time Lattimore ever saw; and put on a look that will
corroborate the statement when you go out of here!"

"Bravo, bravo!" said a voice from near the door. "I don't understand any
of it, but the speech sounded awfully telling! Where's papa?"

It was Antonia, who had come in unobserved. She wore a felt hat with one
little feather on it, driving-gloves, and a dark cloth dress. She stood,
rosy with driving, her blonde curls clustering in airy confusion about
her forehead, a tailor-gowned Brunhilde.

"Why, hello, Antonia!" said Jim. "He went away some time ago. Wasn't
that a corking good speech? Ah! You never know the value of an old
friend until you use him as audience at the dress rehearsal of a speech!
Pacers or trotters?"

"Pacers," said she, "Storm and The Friar."

"If you'll let me drive," he stipulated, "I'd like to go home with you."

"Nobody but myself," said she, "ever drives this team. You'd spoil The
Friar's temper with that unyielding wrist of yours; but if you are good,
you may hold the ends of the lines, and say 'Dap!' occasionally."

And down to the street we went together, our cares dismissed. Jim handed
Antonia into the trap, and they spun away toward Lynhurst, apparently
the happiest people in Lattimore.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Going Away of Laura and Clifford, and the Departure of Mr. Trescott.

"Thet little quirly thing there," said Mr. Trescott, spreading a map out
on my library table and pointing with his trembling and knobby
forefinger, "is Wolf Nose Crick. It runs into the Cheyenne, down about
there, an' 's got worlds o' water fer any sized herds, an' carries yeh
back from the river fer twenty-five miles. There's a big spring at the
head of it, where the ranch buildin's is; an' there's a clump o' timber
there--box elders an' cottonwoods, y' know. Now see the advantage I'll
have. Other herds'll hev to traipse back an' forth from grass to water
an' from water to grass, a-runnin' theirsel