inian
aside and whisper a request, to which he nodded prompt assent. So nobody
but they two knew what was meant when, as the three mounted and were
about to ride away, she asked Samson:

"Do you know the trail to El Desierto?"

"Do I know a pisen serpent? What in the name of reason put such a
forsaken hole into your head on this joyful occasion?"

"Never mind what, and never mind speech-making, dear old fellow. I have
to call at El Desierto on my way to Sobrante and would like to know the
shortest road."

"Is she--has she got a little 'touched' down there in your City of
Angels and Scamps, eh?"

"Samson, am I still the captain, or am I not?"

"Captain, I salute. Ride on! You, Aleck, hitch up a board and take
that trunk of Miss Trent's to her country seat, and be quick about
it. Hurray! I'm so happy I'm looney! Here's for El Desierto and no
questions asked. Hurray!"

CHAPTER XXI

BACK AT SOBRANTE

For an hour and a half they rode swiftly along a comparatively level
trail, though to Ninian Sharp's untrained eyes there was no road
visible. How Samson managed to pick his way so undeviatingly over the
dried herbage and sandy soil was a mystery; but neither the guide nor
Jessica found anything strange in this. Those who live in wide solitudes
grow keen of sight and hearing, and there were tiny roughnesses here and
there which clearly marked to these experienced ranch people where
other feet had passed that way.

Presently the roughness increased, and the trail climbed steadily toward
a mesa, which seemed to the reporter but ten rods distant, yet was, in
reality, as many miles.

"We turn here, captain. Shall I ride ahead?"

"Yes, Samson, but slowly. Scruff's been so idle all these weeks and
grown so lazy he'll hardly move."

"He'll get over that as soon as he meets up with the tackers. My, but
they've led Aunt Sally a life! And taken more medicine than was due
'em during the natural course of their lives. Say, Sharp, do you enjoy
picra?"

"Never tasted the stuff."

"And 'never too late to mend.' Here, take this vial, I present it to
you with my compliments. With the captain's respect. With the good will
of the whole outfit."

"But, beg pardon, I have no use for--picra."

"Don't delude yourself. You'll have to have it, outside or in. I'm a
friend. I give you this bottle. Then, when Aunt Sally appears with her
little dish and spoon, produce this from your pistol pocket and knock
her plumb speechl