emembered the greatness of
this old gun-man he might have believed that the lonely years in the
valley had unbalanced his mind. In an hour like this coolness seemed
inexplicable--assuredly would have been impossible in an ordinary man.
Yet what hid behind that drawling coolness? What was the meaning of
those long, sloping, shadowy lines of the face? What spirit lay in the
deep, mild, clear eyes? Shefford experienced a sudden check to what had
been his first growing impression of a drifting, broken old man.

"Lassiter, pack what little you can carry--mustn't be much--and we'll
get out of here," said Shefford.

"I shore will. Reckon I ain't a-goin' to need a pack-train. We saved the
clothes we wore in here. Jane never thought it no use. But I figgered we
might need them some day. They won't be stylish, but I reckon they'll do
better 'n these skins. An' there's an old coat thet was Venters's."

The mild, dreamy look became intensified in Lassiter's eyes.

"Did Venters have any hosses when you knowed him?" he asked.

"He had a farm full of horses," replied Shefford, with a smile. "And
there were two blacks--the grandest horses I ever saw. Black Star and
Night! You remember, Lassiter?"

"Shore. I was wonderin' if he got the blacks out. They must be growin'
old by now.... Grand hosses, they was. But Jane had another hoss, a big
devil of a sorrel. His name was Wrangle. Did Venters ever tell you about
him--an' thet race with Jerry Card?"

"A hundred times!" replied Shefford.

"Wrangle run the blacks off their legs. But Jane never would believe
thet. An' I couldn't change her all these years.... Reckon mebbe we'll
get to see them blacks?"

"Indeed, I hope--I believe you will," replied Shefford, feelingly.

"Shore won't thet be fine. Jane, did you hear? Black Star an' Night are
livin' an' we'll get to see them."

But Jane Withersteen only clasped Fay in her arms, and looked at
Lassiter with wet and glistening eyes.

Shefford told them to hurry and come to the cliff where the ascent from
the valley was to be made. He thought best to leave them alone to make
their preparations and bid farewell to the cavern home they had known
for so long.

Then he strolled back along the wall, loitering here to gaze into a
cave, and there to study crude red paintings in the nooks. And sometimes
he halted thoughtfully and did not see anything. At length he rounded
a corner of cliff to espy Nas Ta Bega sitting upon the ledge, reposefu