At last he took his leave. She stepped out to the gate where he had left his pinto.
“You must come back and meet my brother some day. I am sure you will like him—and I’ll have some more pies.”
“Bet you will,” said Billy. “I am going to come back. Don’t forget the pies.”
She waved her hat at him when he was out in the sagebrush and he answered with his sombrero. When he was beyond the knoll he reined in his pony. He was thinking.
From the knoll he could look down at the section line that ran to the eastward. On the desert side it could be distinguished by the straight swath that had been cleared of sagebrush; on the other side it was marked by the fence that ran into the distance. The fence was Holman’s. Billy had business with Holman. He spoke to his pinto:
“Pinhead,” said Billy Magee, “we have lost our homestead. We ain’t clever enough to deceive a lady. But we ain’t babes yet, either. You an’ me is goin’ to raise tarnation with Mr. Holman.”
Then he struck out across the country, straight down the section line toward the irrigated belt that was the patented domain of the Holman Land and Water Company. There was a road that ran through the desert parallel to the belt of green. When Billy came to this road he stopped. A black object was coming toward him—a man on horseback.
“’Lo, Billy Magee,” greeted the man. “When’d y’ get back? How’s the boys up ‘Pop’ Mobray’s way? Goin’ back t’ nestin’?”
“Thinkin’ of it,” said Billy. “Mebbe. Don’t know what I’ll do. Y’ goin’ by the mines?”
“Yep. Expect to be at the mine to-night. Why?”