ith "The Story of the Files"; but Saxon shook her head and got some
money from Billy.

"It says it costs two dollars," she said. "Will you buy me one, and keep
it till we get settled? Then I'll write, and you can send it to me."

"Oh, you Americans," Mrs. Mortimer chided, accepting the money. "But you
must promise to write from time to time before you're settled."

She saw them to the county road.

"You are brave young things," she said at parting. "I only wish I were
going with you, my pack upon my back. You're perfectly glorious, the
pair of you. If ever I can do anything for you, just let me know. You're
bound to succeed, and I want a hand in it myself. Let me know how that
government land turns out, though I warn you I haven't much faith in its
feasibility. It's sure to be too far away from markets."

She shook hands with Billy. Saxon she caught into her arms and kissed.

"Be brave," she said, with low earnestness, in Saxon's ear. "You'll win.
You are starting with the right ideas. And you were right not to accept
my proposition. But remember, it, or better, will always be open to you.
You're young yet, both of you. Don't be in a hurry. Any time you
stop anywhere for a while, let me know, and I'll mail you heaps of
agricultural reports and farm publications. Good-bye. Heaps and heaps
and heaps of luck."

CHAPTER IV

Bill sat motionless on the edge of the bed in their little room in San
Jose that night, a musing expression in his eyes.

"Well," he remarked at last, with a long-drawn breath, "all I've got
to say is there's some pretty nice people in this world after all. Take
Mrs. Mortimer. Now she's the real goods--regular old American."

"A fine, educated lady," Saxon agreed, "and not a bit ashamed to work at
farming herself. And she made it go, too."

"On twenty acres--no, ten; and paid for 'em, an' all improvements, an'
supported herself, four hired men, a Swede woman an' daughter, an' her
own nephew. It gets me. Ten acres! Why, my father never talked less'n
one hundred an' sixty acres. Even your brother Tom still talks in
quarter sections.--An' she was only a woman, too. We was lucky in
meetin' her."

"Wasn't it an adventure!" Saxon cried. "That's what comes of traveling.
You never know what's going to happen next. It jumped right out at us,
just when we were tired and wondering how much farther to San Jose.
We weren't expecting it at all. And she didn't treat us as if we were
tramping. And that