The youth took his saddle and accoutrements from the corner, where they had been lying, and stepping outside, adjusted them upon Thunderbolt, who whinnied with pleasure at the promise of carrying his loved owner on his back indefinitely. The two had become attached by their companionship on the hunt and ranch, and the delight of the youth on recovering his mustang was beyond expression.
While he was busy at this brief task, the members of the little family kept their feet, discussing matters in which each was interested.
“Well, I’m ready, Ballyhoo,” called Avon, in his cheery voice, stepping quickly through the open door.
He placed one arm around the neck of his aunt and kissed her affectionately, shook hands with Dinah, adding as he crossed palms with his uncle:
“I expect to see you again, soon. Keep up a good heart, auntie, while we are gone, which I don’t think will be for long. Good-by, all!”
He put his foot in the stirrup, swung himself into the saddle, at the same moment that his companion did the same, and the couple headed their animals to the northward.
Captain Shirril and the women remained in the door, looking forth in the darkness, and listening until the sounds of the hoofs died out in the distance. Then the Texan led the way inside, adjusting the bar in place so that no one could enter without permission.
The extra horse which Avon had ridden to the cabin was turned loose in the bush, to be recovered and used by the captain when he wished to ride to the camp. Ballyhoo had removed the saddle and bridle, which lay in the corner where Avon’s had awaited him.
The Texan stood a minute, looking around the room, as if trying to recall any forgotten duty, but thought of none.