“You might ride over, since you are going out anyway, and tell Mr. Wilson what Mr. Horton has been saying. If you call on Mr. Drummond, who is our main hope for raising the money, you’ll pass Wilson’s, anyway.”
“Oh, yes! I’ll see him, sure; and now I must be going.”
I went out accordingly, observing in an absent way, as I left the room, that, since no fundamental clause required Jessie to replace the dictionary on its shelf, it was still lying on the window-ledge.
I rode immediately over to Mr. Wilson’s, and was fortunate in finding him at home. He promised to “turn the thing over in his mind,” and, if there seemed to him, as a result of this process, anything, any new move, called for on our part, to ride over during the day and let us know.
Then I went on to the two or three places that we had in mind as most promising, if one desired to raise money, and failed distinctly, in every case. It was, as one of the ranchmen feelingly explained, “a dry time; between hay and grass. Too late for the spring round-up and too early for the fall harvest.” Every one was, accordingly, lacking in ready cash.
I returned home, not greatly dejected by my failure, since, thanks to Mr. Wilson, I had so well understood the existing conditions before starting out that I would have been surprised if I had succeeded.
Joe being still absent, I was obliged to care for Frank myself. When, in the dusky twilight, I at length entered the house, it was to find little Ralph already fast asleep and Jessie about starting for the corral with the milk-pail.
“Haven’t you got the milking done yet, Jessie?”
“No; I waited for Ralph to get to sleep and for you to come. Did you get any money?”