ists; some go into the professions; the rest spend the
money and start rotting when it's gone, and if it lasts their life-time
their children do the rotting for them."

Their long ride was soon over, and at parting Benson reminded Billy of
the steady job that awaited him any time he gave the word.

"I guess we'll take a peep at that government land first," Billy
answered. "Don't know what we'll settle down to, but there's one thing
sure we won't tackle."

"What's that?"

"Start in apple-growin' at three thousan' dollars an acre."

Billy and Saxon, their packs upon the backs, trudged along a hundred
yards. He was the first to break silence.

"An' I tell you another thing, Saxon. We'll never be goin' around
smellin' out an' swipin' bits of soil an' carryin' it up a hill in a
basket. The United States is big yet. I don't care what Benson or any of
'em says, the United States ain't played out. There's millions of acres
untouched an' waitin', an' it's up to us to find 'em."

"And I'll tell you one thing," Saxon said. "We're getting an education.
Tom was raised on a ranch, yet he doesn't know right now as much about
farming conditions as we do. And I'll tell you another thing. The more
I think of it, the more it seems we are going to be disappointed about
that government land."

"Ain't no use believin' what everybody tells you," he protested.

"Oh, it isn't that. It's what I think. I leave it to you. If this land
around here is worth three thousand an acre, why is it that government
land, if it's any good, is waiting there, only a short way off, to be
taken for the asking."

Billy pondered this for a quarter of a mile, but could come to no
conclusion. At last he cleared his throat and remarked:

"Well, we can wait till we see it first, can't we?"

"All right," Saxon agreed. "We'll wait till we see it."

CHAPTER VI

They had taken the direct county road across the hills from Monterey,
instead of the Seventeen Mile Drive around by the coast, so that Carmel
Bay came upon them without any fore-glimmerings of its beauty. Dropping
down through the pungent pines, they passed woods-embowered cottages,
quaint and rustic, of artists and writers, and went on across wind-blown
rolling sandhills held to place by sturdy lupine and nodding with pale
California poppies. Saxon screamed in sudden wonder of delight, then
caught her breath and gazed at the amazing peacock-blue of a breaker,
shot through with golden sunlight,