“The life suits me, I guess!” laughed Pam, and then she hugged Jack again, just to convince herself that he was really here in the flesh; and because she was very silly she had to cry a little in memory of the fierce home-sickness which had been upon her so often in the winter that was past.
“Hullo! Where is the ancient horse off to with so much haste?” demanded Jack, as he looked round in time to see that the horse had deliberately turned back on its tracks, and was proceeding along the trail at a brisk walk.
“Oh, the wretched creature!” cried Pam. “I have had such a task to get it along this morning, it seemed so old and spent. Now look at it!” She and Jack had both started to run after the animal, and when it heard them coming it broke into a run, going at a shambling trot that made it exceedingly difficult to overhaul it.
“Moral: never leave go of the lines when you go a journey with a racer of this description!” said Jack, who was panting heavily by the time they had overtaken and stopped the horse. He had not the wind of Pam, and seemed quite done up by the scramble.
“The lazy creature has got to turn round again, and do the bit to the river,” she said, tugging its head round with great energy. “Did you bring any books, Jack?”
“Nearly all we possess. I say, Pam, what trees! Why, they are giants!”
“Wait until you see some of ours on Ripple!” cried Pam, with an unconscious air of proprietorship. “Mr. Dobson told me last fall that he believed we had some of the finest timber anywhere round here.”
“Turn it into money then, before anything happens to it,” advised Jack, as the horse went slowly along the trail to Hunt’s Crossing.
“I must not sell any more just yet,” she answered nervously. “You see, it is not as if we had a clear title to the land.”
“Was that Grandfather who was found in the forest?” Jack asked, his face very serious now. The tragedy looked more real now that he was here close to it. The descriptions in Pam’s letters had been of necessity meagre. Then, too, she was not particularly good at letter-writing, and so had failed to give many details which would help to the understanding of the affair. Now, when she had loaded Jack’s baggage on to the wagon, and they had started back along the trail to Ripple, she plunged into a full and circumstantial account of everything connected with that grim find in the forest.