“He is shore a fine cayuse,” he asserted with extreme impressiveness.  “He is one of them broncs you jest loves.  An’ he’s jes ’s cheap!  I likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an’ ef any one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old Mizzou an’ he mingles in them troubles immediate.  You must have that cayuse an’ go scoutin’ in th’ hills, yo’ shore must!  Ol’ man Davidson’ll do th’ work fer ye, but ye shore must scout.  ’Taint healthy not t’ git exercise on a cayuse.  It shorely ain’t!  An’ you must git t’ know these yar hills, you must.  They is beautiful an’ picturesque, and is full of scenery.  When you goes back East, you wants to know all about ’em.  I wouldn’t hev you go back East without knowin’ all about ‘em for anythin’ in the worl’, I likes ye thet much!”

Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather uncertain hand.

“Y’ wants to start right off too, thet’s th’ worst of it, so’s t’ see ’em all afore you goes, ’cause they is lots of hills and I’m ’feared you won’t stay long, sonny; I am that!  I has my ideas these yar claims is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won’t need no one here long, and then we’ll lose ye, sonny, so you mus’ shore hev that cayuse.”

Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to Bennington’s great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should examine the pony.

“He is a fine bronc, fer shore,” he claimed, “an’ you’d better git arter him afore some one else gits him.”

As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good idea.  All Westerners had horses—­in the books.  So he abandoned Aliris:  A Romance of all Time, for the morning, and drove down to Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou.

He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not in sight.  To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without molestation.  There he was handed two letters.  One was from his parents.  The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining capitalist.  The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various amounts in favour of six men.  Bishop wrote that the young man was to hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts of each.  He promised a further installment in a few weeks.

Bennington felt very important.  He looked the letter all over again, and examined the envelope idly.  The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of the day before.

“That’s funny,” said Bennington to himself.  “I wonder why Mizzou didn’t bring it up with him last night?” Then he remembered the old man’s watery eye and laughed.  “I guess I know,” he thought.

The next thing was to find the men named in the letter.  He did not know them from Adam.  Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was laid before him.