“Steve!”

“Yes’m.  I ’most got it off.  Wild-goose chase?  Madam, the wild goose is a child that shuns this element.  You mean wild-horse chase.”

“That sort of talk may amuse your constituents, but you are talking to me.”

Off came the stubborn boot.  The Senator puffed, and tugged at the other boot.

“No, ma’am.  You’re talking to me.  There!  Now go ahead and I’ll listen.”

“Why didn’t you discourage Mr. Bartley’s idea of making such a journey?’

“I did, Nelly.  I told him he was a dam’ fool.”

Mrs. Senator Brown, who knew her husband’s capabilities in dodging issues when he was cornered,—­both at home and abroad,—­peered at him over her glasses.  “What else did you tell him?”

“Well, your honor,” chuckled the Senator, “I also told him he was the kind of dam’ fool I liked to shake hands with.”

“I knew it!  And what else?”

“I challenge the right of the attorney for the plaintiff to introduce any evidence that may—­”

“The attorney for the defense may proceed,” said Mrs. Brown, smiling.

“Why, shucks, Nelly!  When you smile like that—­why, I told Bartley he could have anything on this ranch that would help him get a rope on Sears.”

“I knew it!”

“Then why did you ask me?”

Mrs. Brown ignored the question.  “Very well, Stephen.  Mr. Bartley gave me his sister’s address, in case anything happened.  She is his only living relative and I’m going to write to her at once and tell her what her brother is up to.”

“And most like she’ll head right for this ranch.”

“Well, suppose she does?  If she is anything like her brother she will be welcome.”

“You bet!  Just leave that to me!”

“It’s a shame!” asserted Mrs. Brown.

“It is!  With her good looks and inexperience she’ll sure need somebody to look after her.”

“How do you know she is good-looking?”

“I don’t.  I was just hoping.”

“I shall write, just the same.”

“I reckon you will.  I’m going to bed.”

Just as the sun rounded above the mesa next morning, Bartley stepped out to the veranda.  He was surprised to find the Senator up and about, inspecting the details of Cheyenne’s outfit, for Cheyenne had the horses saddled and packed.  Bartley was still more surprised to find that Mrs. Brown had breakfast ready.  Evidently the good Senator and his wife had a decided interest in the welfare of the expedition.

After breakfast the Senator’s wife came out to the bunk-house with a mysterious parcel which she gave to Bartley.  He sniffed at it.

“Cold chicken sandwiches!” he said, smiling broadly.

“And some doughnuts.  It will save you boys fussing with a lunch.”

Long Lon Pelly was also up and ready to start.  The air was still cool and the horses were a bit snuffy.  Lon mounted and rode toward the west gate where he waited for Cheyenne and Bartley.