sed by thoughts of recent happenings, he paid
slight attention to the fact, though idly wondering what strangers
might be having business, and on foot, with Sobrante, at which point
the road ended. But, as he drew nearer to them, something familiar in
the bearing of the taller man, and startling in the appearance of the
other, caused him to shield his eyes from the sunshine and peer
critically into the distance. Then he slapped his thigh so excitedly
that his horse suddenly stopped, reared and nearly unseated him.

"Oh, you idiot! Can't a feller slap himself without your takin' it
to heart? If I ain't a blind man, and maybe I am, that's old
'Forty-niner' hoofing himself home, and----Whew! That's Marty,
limpin' and leanin' alongside. Well, I 'low! More trouble and
plenty of it. Seems if all creation was just a-happenin' our way,
blamed if it don't. Giddap there, Moses!"

In a few minutes he had reached the pedestrians and saluted them with
unfeigned astonishment, and Ephraim with great friendliness of
expression, but also the question:

"What fresh calamities you two fetchin', now?"

They told him, as briefly as possible, and he found his own perplexity
increased as he demanded:

"What in creation is to be done? Here's Pedro gone and died in the
most unhandy place and time; and here be you two, with not a decent
leg between you, twenty miles from home, and one horse for the three
of us!"

At the word "horse" poor Marty winced, as from a personal blow, while
both he and Ephraim were greatly amazed at the news of the shepherd's
death. They began to feel, as John had said, that "nothing save
disaster was meant for Sobrante folks;" yet, after a moment,
"Forty-niner" perceived another side of the matter, and expressed
himself thus:

"What's got into the pack of us? Seems if we'd lost our gumption.
After all, couldn't anything have happened likelier, so far forth as I
see. John Benton, you light off Moses and help this man into your
saddle. He'll ride home and I'll walk alongside, whilst you tramp on
to Marion. There's a mare there, named Jean. She was offered to me,
but I was in a hurry and didn't accept. However, the offer is due to
hold good for any of our folks. Light, I tell you. Marty's about
played out."

Indeed, the respite came none too soon. The worst injury the gardener
had sustained was, apparently, of the head, and a terrible dizziness
rendered his progress on foot almost impossible. He would not have