Beth, in her tumult of emotions, was changing color with bewildering rapidity.
"Why—I expected to go along, of course," she said. "I've got a suit—I've done it before—I mean, I expect to dress as you are, Glen, and help to run the line."
Pratt grinned good-naturedly. "Keeps it all in the family. That's one advantage."
"All right," said Glen. "Hike upstairs and don your splendors."
He had hired a car and stocked it with provisions, tents, and bedding. He hastened off and returned with the chauffeur to the door.
Beth, in the costume she had worn on the day when Van found her lost in the desert, made a shy, frightened youth, when at length she appeared, but her courage was superb.
At ten o'clock they left the town, and rolled far out to the westward on their course.
Van learned of their departure. He was certain that Beth had gone to the "Laughing Water" claim, perhaps to be married to Bostwick. Three times he went to the hay-yard that day, intent upon saddling his broncho, riding to the claim himself, and fighting out his rights by the methods of primitive man.
On the third of his visits he met a stranger who offered to purchase Suvy on the spot at a price of two hundred dollars.
"Don't offer me a million or I might be tempted," Van told him gravely. "I'll sell you my soul for a hundred."