“Assuredly. The more you take the better you’ll please me—and perhaps the less my—my enemies will get.”
“Venters, I reckon you’ll have trouble packin’ anythin’ away,” put in Lassiter.
“I’ll go at night.”
“Mebbe that wouldn’t be best. You’d sure be stopped. You’d better go early in the mornin’—say, just after dawn. That’s the safest time to move round here.”
“Lassiter, I’ll be hard to stop,” returned Venters, darkly.
“I reckon so.”
“Bern,” said Jane, “go first to the riders’ quarters and get yourself a complete outfit. You’re a—a sight. Then help yourself to whatever else you need—burros, packs, grain, dried fruits, and meat. You must take coffee and sugar and flour—all kinds of supplies. Don’t forget corn and seeds. I remember how you used to starve. Please—please take all you can pack away from here. I’ll make a bundle for you, which you mustn’t open till you’re in your valley. How I’d like to see it! To judge by you and Wrangle, how wild it must be!”
Jane walked down into the outer court and approached the sorrel. Upstarting, he laid back his ears and eyed her.
“Wrangle—dear old Wrangle,” she said, and put a caressing hand on his matted mane. “Oh, he’s wild, but he knows me! Bern, can he run as fast as ever?”
“Run? Jane, he’s done sixty miles since last night at dark, and I could make him kill Black Star right now in a ten-mile race.”