“Shucks, Doc!  I’m sick of this here place!”

Andover smiled.  “Well, just between ourselves, so am I. I’ve been here eight years.  By the way, how would you like to take a ride with me, next Thursday?  I expect to motor out to Sanborn.”

“In that machine I seen you in the other day?”

“Yes.  New car.  I’d like to try her out on a good straightaway—­and there’s a pretty fair road up on this end of the mesa.”

“I’d sure like to go!  Say, Doc, how much does one of them automobiles cost?”

“Oh, about three thousand, without extras.”

“How fast kin you go?”

“Depends on the road.  My car is guaranteed to do seventy-five on the level.”

“Some stepper!  You could git to Sanborn and back in a couple of hours.”

“Not quite.  I figure it about a four-hour trip.  I’d be glad to have you along.  Friend of mine tells me there’s a thoroughbred saddle-horse there that is going to be sold at auction.  I’ve been advertising for a horse for my daughter.  You might look him over and tell me what you think of him.”

“I reckon I know him already,” said Pete.

“How’s that?”

“’Cause they’s no thoroughbred stock around Sanborn.  If it’s the one I’m thinkin’ about, it was left there by a friend of mine.”

“Oh—­I see!  I remember, now.  Sanborn is where you—­er—­took the train for El Paso?”

“We left our hosses there—­same as the paper said.”

“H-mm!  Well, I suppose the horse is to be sold for charges.  Sheriff’s sale, I understand.”

“Oh, you’re safe in buyin’ him all right.  And he sure is a good one.”

“Well, I’ll speak to the chief.  I imagine he’ll let you go with me.”

Pete shook his head.  “Nope.  He wouldn’t even if he had the say.  But the sheriff of Sanborn County has kind of invited me to go over there for a spell.  I guess he figured on leavin’ here in a couple of days.”

“He can’t take you till I certify that you’re able to stand the journey,” said Andover brusquely.

“Well, he’s comin’ to-morrow.  I’m dead sick of stayin’ here.  Can’t you tell him I kin travel?”

“We’ll see how you feel to-morrow.  Hello!  Here’s Miss Gray.  What, six o’clock!  I had no idea . . .  Yes, a little temperature, Miss Gray.  Too much excitement.  A little surface inflammation—­nothing serious.  A good night’s rest and he’ll be a new man.  Good-night.”

Pete was glad to see Doris.  Her mere presence was restful.  He sighed heavily, glanced up at her and smiled.  “A little soup, Miss Gray.  It’s awful excitin’.  Slight surface inflammation on them boiled beets.  Nothin’ serious—­they ain’t scorched.  A good night’s rest and the cook’ll be a new man tomorrow.  Doc Andover is sure all right—­but I always feel like he was wearin’ kid gloves and was afraid of gittin’ ’em dirty, every time he comes in.”