"We're keeping Mr. Adams, Peter Pan. He is anxious to be off. He has been ready for quite a while and I think he has been waiting till you appeared so that he could say good-bye."
"Are you anxious to be off?" she queried.
"Yes, ma'am. It's twenty miles over the ridge to good grass and water."
"Why, twenty miles isn't so far!"
"They's considerable up and down in them twenty miles, Miss Bronson.
Now, it wouldn't be so far for a turkey. He could fly most of the way.
But a horse is different, and I'm packin' a right fair jag of stuff."
"Well, good-bye, ranger man. Good-bye, Gray Leg,—and you two poor horses that have to carry the packs. Don't stay away all winter."
Lorry swung up and started the pack-horses. At the edge of the timber he turned and waved his hat. Dorothy and her father answered with a hearty Good-bye that echoed through the slumbering wood lands.
One of Bronson's horses raised his head and nickered. "Chinook is saying
'Adios,' too. Isn't the air good? And we're right on top of the world.
There is Jason, and there is St. Johns, and 'way over there ought to be
the railroad, but I can't see it."
Bronson smiled down at her.
She reached up and pinched his cheek. "Let's stay here forever, daddy."