ns,
sketching the Oakland life vaguely, and dwelling on their future
intentions.

Almost as in a dream, when they passed the nurseries at Morgan Hill, she
learned they had come twenty miles, and realized that it was a longer
stretch than they had planned to walk that day. And still the machine
hummed on, eating up the distance as ever it flashed into view.

"I wondered what so good a man as your husband was doing on the road,"
Benson told her.

"Yes," she smiled. "He said you said he must be a good man gone wrong."

"But you see, I didn't know about YOU. Now I understand. Though I must
say it's extraordinary in these days for a young couple like you to pack
your blankets in search of land. And, before I forget it, I want to tell
you one thing." He turned to Billy. "I am just telling your wife that
there's an all-the-year job waiting for you on my ranch. And there's
a tight little cottage of three rooms the two of you can housekeep in.
Don't forget."

Among other things Saxon discovered that Benson had gone through the
College of Agriculture at the University of California--a branch of
learning she had not known existed. He gave her small hope in her search
for government land.

"The only government land left," he informed her, "is what is not good
enough to take up for one reason or another. If it's good land down
there where you're going, then the market is inaccessible. I know no
railroads tap in there."

"Wait till we strike Pajaro Valley," he said, when they had passed
Gilroy and were booming on toward Sargent's. "I'll show you what can be
done with the soil--and not by cow-college graduates but by uneducated
foreigners that the high and mighty American has always sneered at. I'll
show you. It's one of the most wonderful demonstrations in the state."

At Sargent's he left them in the machine a few minutes while he
transacted business.

"Whew! It beats hikin'," Billy said. "The day's young yet and when he
drops us we'll be fresh for a few miles on our own. Just the same,
when we get settled an' well off, I guess I'll stick by horses. They'll
always be good enough for me."

"A machine's only good to get somewhere in a hurry," Saxon agreed. "Of
course, if we got very, very rich--"

"Say, Saxon," Billy broke in, suddenly struck with an idea. "I've
learned one thing. I ain't afraid any more of not gettin' work in the
country. I was at first, but I didn't tell you. Just the same I was dead
leery when we pul