Well, this summer's done the same thing--gone by on wheels. An' now it's
up to us to find some place to winter. This Ukiah looks like a pretty
good burg. We'll get a room to-night an' dry out. An' to-morrow I'll
hustle around to the stables, an' if I locate anything we can rent a
shack an' have all winter to think about where we'll go next year."

CHAPTER XIII

The winter proved much less exciting than the one spent in Carmel, and
keenly as Saxon had appreciated the Carmel folk, she now appreciated
them more keenly than ever. In Ukiah she formed nothing more than
superficial acquaintances. Here people were more like those of the
working class she had known in Oakland, or else they were merely
wealthy and herded together in automobiles. There was no democratic
artist-colony that pursued fellowship disregardful of the caste of
wealth.

Yet it was a more enjoyable winter than any she had spent in Oakland.
Billy had failed to get regular employment; so she saw much of him, and
they lived a prosperous and happy hand-to-mouth existence in the tiny
cottage they rented. As extra man at the biggest livery stable, Billy's
spare time was so great that he drifted into horse-trading. It was
hazardous, and more than once he was broke, but the table never wanted
for the best of steak and coffee, nor did they stint themselves for
clothes.

"Them blamed farmers--I gotta pass it to 'em," Billy grinned one day,
when he had been particularly bested in a horse deal. "They won't tear
under the wings, the sons of guns. In the summer they take in boarders,
an' in the winter they make a good livin' coin' each other up at tradin'
horses. An' I just want to tell YOU, Saxon, they've sure shown me a few.
An' I 'm gettin' tough under the wings myself. I'll never tear again
so as you can notice it. Which means one more trade learned for yours
truly. I can make a livin' anywhere now tradin' horses."

Often Billy had Saxon out on spare saddle horses from the stable, and
his horse deals took them on many trips into the surrounding country.
Likewise she was with him when he was driving horses to sell on
commission; and in both their minds, independently, arose a new idea
concerning their pilgrimage. Billy was the first to broach it.

"I run into an outfit the other day, that's stored in town," he said,
"an' it's kept me thinkin' ever since. Ain't no use tryin' to get you to
guess it, because you can't. I'll tell you--the swellest wagon-campin'