horseman of the hills, she was disappointed, for neither
at meals, nor during the shopping tour that occupied the whole of the
following day, nor yet upon the long homeward drive, did he appear.
The return trip was slower and more monotonous even than the journey
to town. The horses crawled along the interminable treeless trail with
the heavily loaded wagon bumping and rattling in the choking cloud of
its own dust.

The expedition had been a disappointing one to Microby. The "pitcher
show" did not compare in interest with the never forgotten "circust."
There had been no "fight" to break the monotony of purchasing
supplies. And they had encountered no "nortymobiles."

Despite the fact that they had started from town at daylight,
darkness overtook them at the canyon and it was with fear and
misgiving that Patty contemplated the devious trail up Monte's Creek.
The descent of this trail by daylight had taxed the girl's knowledge
of horsemanship to the limit, and now to attempt its ascent with a
heavily loaded wagon in the darkness--Microby Dandeline seemed to read
her thoughts.

"We-all cain't git up the crick, I don't reckon," she hazarded, but
even as she spoke there was a flicker of light flashed through the
darkness and, lantern in hand, Watts rose from his comfortable seat in
a niche of rock near the fork of the trail and greeted them with his
kindly drawl. "I 'lowed yo' all ort to be 'long d'rec'ly. I'll take
'em now, Miss; the trail's kind of roughish like, but ef yo'll jist
take the lantern an' foller 'long ahead I reckon we'll make hit all
right. I've druv hit afore in the dark, an' no lantern, neither."
Taking turns with the lantern, the girls led the way, and an hour and
a half later halted before the door of the Watts cabin, where they
became the center of an admiring group of young Wattses who munched
their candy soberly as they gazed in reverent awe at the homing
argonauts.

The three mile walk up the rough trail did wonders for Patty's
stiffened muscles, and it was with a feeling of agreeable surprise
that she rose from her shake-down the following morning with scarcely
an ache or a pain in her body.

"Yer gittin' bruk in to hit," smiled Ma Watts, approvingly, as the
girl sat down to her belated breakfast. But the surprise at her fit
condition was nothing to the surprise of Ma Watts's next words. "Pa,
he taken yer stuff on up to the sheep camp. He 'lowed yo'd want to git
settled like. They taken yer pa