Williams laughed. "I guess you ain't such a fool, at that, with your nussin' stock and settin' up nights with 'em. Miss Louise says to tell you to come right up to the house,—the house, you understand,—and get your breakfast with them. They said they was goin' to wait for you. I guess that ain't throwin' it into the rest of us some. Keep it up, Collie kid, keep it up, and you'll be payin' us all wages some day."
CHAPTER XVII
GUESTS
A month had passed since the rescue of the blunder colt. The air was warm and clear, the sky intensely blue. Moonstone Cañon grew fragrant with budding flowers. The little lizards came from their winter crevices and clung to the sun-warmed stones. A covey of young quail fluttered along the hillside under the stately surveillance of the mother bird. Wild cats prowled boldly on the southern slopes. Cotton-tails huddled beneath the greasewood brush and nibbled at the grasses. The cañon stream ran clear again now that the storm-washed silt had settled. On the peaks the high winds were cold and cutting, but on the slopes and in the valleys the earth was moist and warm.
Louise, humming a song, rode slowly along the Moonstone Cañon Trail. At the "double turn" in the cañon, where dwelt Echo and her myrmidons, Louise rode more slowly.
"Dreaming Fance, the cobbler's son, took his tools and laces,
Wrought her shoes of scarlet dye, shoes as pale as snow.
They shall lead her wild-rose feet all the faëry paces,
Danced along the road of love, the road such feet should go."
She sang slowly, pausing after each line that the echoes might not blur.
"Danced along ... along ... the road ... of love, the road ... of love ... of love," sang the echoes.