CHAPTER XXII.
BUSTED AND DISGUSTED.
THE NEXT morning, after a hearty breakfast, during which he listened once more to Zeke’s plans and instructions, Guy mounted his horse, and led by the old clay-bank, set out for Mr. Wilson’s rancho.
The journey did not seem nearly so long and tiresome now as it did the day before, for he had something beside his bodily aches and pains to think of. He had seen a live hunter, had made a friend of him, and by that time to-morrow, if nothing happened to prevent, he would be on the way to his hunting-grounds. Dreaming of the glorious life he was so soon to commence made the way seem short to him.
About four o’clock in the afternoon he drew up with his little train in front of Mr. Wilson’s house, and found that gentleman waiting for him.
“Wal, you done it, didn’t you?” exclaimed the ranchman, as Guy swung himself from the saddle, “an’ didn’t get lost, nor throwed, nuther. Whose rifle have you got thar?”
“Zeke’s—or rather yours,” said Guy. “Zeke doesn’t want it, for he can’t stay long enough to earn it. He’s going back to his hunting-grounds, and wants you to send a man down to relieve him.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” exclaimed Mr. Wilson. “Whar’s your huntin’ kit?”
“I left it with Zeke. He wants to try the rifle.”
“Wal, if you hain’t the most confidin’ boy I ever see in all my born days, I don’t want a cent,” said the ranchman. “I told you that you’d find him a mighty palaverin’ sort of a feller, an’ I thought that would put you on your guard. You’ll never see them things of your’n agin. Zeke’s gettin’ ready to run away. I can see that plain enough; but if he takes any of my property with him, ef it’s even so much as a bar of lead, I’ll have all the constables in the valley arter him in the shake of a buck’s tail. He’s ’arned a hoss since he’s been here, and that’s all he can take with him. I’ll ride down myself, to-morrow, an’ see what he means by such actin’.”