“Only a mile farther, boys, an’ we’ll be where the cabin stands, or stood.  Don’t git your feelin’s too high, ’cause it may have been wiped off the face of the earth.”

A little later he uttered another cry, and this was the most exultant of all.

“There she is,” he said, pointing ahead.  “She ain’t been wiped away by nobody or nothin’.  Don’t you see her, that big, stout cabin ahead?”

“I do,” said young Allen joyously, “and it’s the Inn of the Panther as sure as you live.”

“But I don’t see any smoke coming out of the chimney,” said Ned, “and there are no gorgeous menials standing on the doorstep waiting for us.”

“It’s been abandoned a long time,” said the Panther.  “I can tell that by its looks, but I’m thinkin’ that it’s good enough fur us an’ mighty welcome.  An’ there’s a shed behind the house that’ll do for the horses.  Boys, we’re travelin’ in tall luck.”

The cabin, a large one, built of logs and adobe, was certainly a consoling sight.  They had almost reached the limit of physical endurance, but they broke into a run to reach it.  The Panther and Ned were the first to push open a heavy swinging door, and they entered side by side.  It was dry within.  The solid board roof did not seem to be damaged at all, and the floor of hard, packed earth was as dry as a bone also.  At one end were a wide stone fireplace, cold long since, and a good chimney of mud and sticks.  There were two windows, closed with heavy clapboard shutters.

There was no furniture in the cabin except two rough wooden benches.  Evidently the original owners had prepared well for their flight, but it was likely that no one had come since.  The lonely place among the trees had passed unobserved by raiders.  The shed behind the cabin was also in good condition, and they tethered there the horses, which were glad enough to escape from the bitter wind and driving snow.

The whole party gathered in the cabin, and as they no longer feared pursuit it was agreed unanimously that they must have luxury.  In this case a fire meant the greatest of all luxuries.

They gathered an abundance of fallen wood, knocked the snow from it and heaped it on either side of the fireplace.  They cut with infinite difficulty dry shavings from the inside of the logs in the wall of the house, and after a full hour of hard work lighted a blaze with flint and steel.  The rest was easy, and soon they had a roaring fire.  They fastened the door with the wooden bar which stood in its place and let the windows remain shut.  Although there was a lack of air, they did not yet feel it, and gave themselves up to the luxury of the glowing heat.

They took off their clothes and held them before the fire.  When they were dry and warm they put them on again and felt like new beings.  Strips of the antelope were fried on the ends of ramrods, and they ate plentifully.  All the chill was driven from their bodies, and in its place came a deep pervading sense of comfort.  The bitter wind yet howled without and they heard the snow driven against the door and windows.  The sound heightened their feeling of luxury.  They were like a troop of boys now, all of them—­except Roylston.  He sat on one of the piles of wood and his eyes gleamed as the others talked.