“No, I haven’t heard a word from there. The telephone is still out of commission.”
“They can’t locate the break. Uncle Joe sent word by the stage-driver asking us to keep an eye out for you and send you over. I’ve come to take you over myself.”
“That’s mighty good of you; but it’s a good deal to ask.”
“I want to see Uncle Joe on business, anyhow, and you’ll like the ride better than the journey by stage.”
Leaving the horses standing with their bridle-reins hanging on the ground, she led the way to the office.
“When father comes in, tell him where I’ve gone, and send Mr. Norcross’s packs by the first wagon. Is your outfit ready?” she asked.
“Not quite. I can get it ready soon.”
He hurried away in pleasant excitement, and in twenty minutes was at the door ready to ride.
“You’d better take my bay,” said Berea. “Old Paint-face there is a little notional.”
Norcross approached his mount with a caution which indicated that he had at least been instructed in range-horse psychology, and as he gathered his reins together to mount, Berrie remarked: