The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1913-09-15

could make use off, returned Blount,
CARRYING the jest one necessary move
further along.
It was precisely at this point, as
Blount remembered afterward, that
the forestry subject was dropped.
Later on, after the talk had drifted
back to mining and from mining into
politics, the hawk faced man announc-
ed his intention of going back to his
section in the body Of the car to take a
nap.
A little further along toward evening.
the great range which had been visible
for hours in the west began to define
itself in peaks and high, bald shoulder
ings Of wind swept mesas, and Blount
was glad to find some STRINGS OF
the Homecoming wanderers quiczened
pulse answering to the nearer view Of
the mountains.
At the dining car dinner, which was
served while the high peaks Of the
main range were still rejecting the
crimson and gold Of the sunset, Blouut
missed his luncheon companion.
Now that he recalled it he remem-
bered that ne had seen nothing of the
hawk faced man since the early after
noon. But the absence of companion
ton.
Almost without knowing it he found
himself Fastening through his dinner
so that he might return to the Pullman
window. When at length he had the
1onged for sight of a bunch of cattle,
with the solitary night herd hanging
by one leg in the saddle to watch the
passing train, the call of the west was
once more trumpeting in his ears.
At a small timber shipping station
well within the mountains where the
logs were shot down to the mills in a
trough-like water chute from the wood
ed heights twenty miles distant there
Gas a longer stop than usual, and
Blount got off to make inquiries.
There was a freight wreck at some
point a few miles farther west, and
the train would probably be delayed
for several hours.
By this time Blount was on well re-
nembered ground. Forty miles away
in a direction somewhat east of north
lay the Blount home domain, where he
had spent his happy boyhood. An
hours gaIlop to the westward the level
rays of the setting sun would be play
ing upon the little station Of Painted
Hat, which had been the shipping point
for the home ranch. And halfway be-
tween Painted Hat and the Circle Bar
lay the horse corrals of one Debb1eby,
a hermit of the mountains and the
boy Evans earliest schoolmaster in the
great book of nature.
Since Blount could not go on by
train, what was to prevent the taking
of an immediate and delightful plunge
into the land of heart stirring recol-
lectfons?
Arranging with the Pullman con-
ductor to have his hand baggage left
in Gantry's Office at the capital, Blount
crossed quickly to a livery stable OPP
posfte the station, bargained for sad
die horse borrowed poncho and
pair of leggings and presently, with
the squeak of the saddle leather max
ing sweet music in his ears, had bro
ken violently, for the moment at least,
with all the civilized traditions.
He would go to see Debbleby; drop
in upon the old ranchman without
warning and thus get his first taste of
the homeland unmixed with any of
the disappointing changes which were
doubtless awaiting him at the real
journeys end.
Now, it CHANGED that the livery sta
BILE was an adjunct to the single no.
Tel III IQo S1nal1 IOWh, anu as
Biount swung up into the saddle he
was a little surprised to see his COM
panion of the Pullman smoking COM
partment standing on the porch of the
hotel in earnest talk with three 9TH
ers who from their appearance might
have figured either as timber jacks
or cowboys.
B1ount was on the point of speaking
MI ho OF &I1o hi
way to the northward trail pointed
out by the 1tveryman, but a curious
feeling restrained him.
He was almost sure that the pros
porous looking gentleman with the
bird Of prey eyes was making him the
subject of his earnest talk with the
three men of doubtful occupatf
Quite naturally this impression deep
ened into a conviction when he looked
back from the road crossing of the
railroad track and saw that all four
of the men on the porch were watch
ing him.
After leaving the railroad Blount
found himself crossing the broad mesa,
with the eastern mountains near at
hand, and the Lost river range struck
out sharply in its sky line against the
sunset horizon.
On this mesa the trail disappeared
entirely, but so long as he was sure of
the general direction Blount let it go
and gave the treIess little broncho a
loose rein Debbleby's ranch lay
among the foothills Of the distant
western range, and he was quite sure
that he could ride straight to it in the
dark if need be.
It wasssoEne little time after he had
left the shoulderings of the eastern
range behind that a curious thing hap
pened.
Far away to the right he heard the
sound OF ga1oping hoofs. Though the
moon was nearly at its full and the
treeless landscape was bare of any
Of oouoT. ho oo711I not tho