after yourself, Pres."

"Oh, once away from Bonneville and the sight of the ruin there, I'm
better. But I intend to go away. And that makes me think, I came to ask
you if you could help me. If you would let me take passage on one of
your wheat ships. The Doctor says an ocean voyage would set me up."

"Why, certainly, Pres," declared Cedarquist. "But I'm sorry you'll have
to go. We expected to have you down in the country with us this winter."

Presley shook his head. "No," he answered. "I must go. Even if I had all
my health, I could not bring myself to stay in California just now. If
you can introduce me to one of your captains--"

"With pleasure. When do you want to go? You may have to wait a few
weeks. Our first ship won't clear till the end of the month."

"That would do very well. Thank you, sir."

But Cedarquist was still interested in the land troubles of the
Bonneville farmers, and took the first occasion to ask:

"So, the Railroad are in possession on most of the ranches?" "On all
of them," returned Presley. "The League went all to pieces, so soon as
Magnus was forced to resign. The old story--they got quarrelling among
themselves. Somebody started a compromise party, and upon that issue
a new president was elected. Then there were defections. The Railroad
offered to lease the lands in question to the ranchers--the ranchers
who owned them," he exclaimed bitterly, "and because the terms were
nominal--almost nothing--plenty of the men took the chance of saving
themselves. And, of course, once signing the lease, they acknowledged
the Railroad's title. But the road would not lease to Magnus. S. Behrman
takes over Los Muertos in a few weeks now."

"No doubt, the road made over their title in the property to him,"
observed Cedarquist, "as a reward of his services."

"No doubt," murmured Presley wearily. He rose to go.

"By the way," said Cedarquist, "what have you on hand for, let us say,
Friday evening? Won't you dine with us then? The girls are going to the
country Monday of next week, and you probably won't see them again for
some time if you take that ocean voyage of yours."

"I'm afraid I shall be very poor company, sir," hazarded Presley.
"There's no 'go,' no life in me at all these days. I am like a clock
with a broken spring."

"Not broken, Pres, my boy;" urged the other, "only run down. Try and see
if we can't wind you up a bit. Say that we can expect you. We dine at
seven."

"Thank you, sir.