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And when, at last, the young folks from Deerhurst tore themselves away and walked homeward over the moonlit road, it was with the feeling that this last outing of their Week of Days had been the dearest and the best.
Partings? They had to come; but when on the Sat.u.r.day morning the last guest had disappeared and Dorothy stood alone beside Aunt Betty on the broad piazza, there might be tears in her brown eyes, but there was no real heaviness in her heart.
G.o.d had given her a home. He had given her this dear old lady to love and serve, and the girl had already learned that there is joy only in Loving Service.
THE END
[Ill.u.s.tration: DOROTHY AND AUNT BETTY, ALONE AT HOME.
_Dorothy's House Party._]
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_Specimen Chapter from_
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"We will ride part of the way with you," suggested Fleet, "and see you safe on the road."
"If you are going," advised the major, "the sooner you get away the better."
"Then I am going to get off at once," announced Chot.
It was but a few moments before the horses were saddled and the little cavalcade started. After accompanying him for some half dozen miles the others bade Chot "adios" and returned to the ranch.
It was still early evening for the days were now very long, when Chot arrived at El Perro Negro, but unlike the other to be remembered evening there were but few persons about and these few paid no attention to him. He attended to his horse and as the supper hour was already over he asked the landlord to get him something to eat. The inner man satisfied he was off early to bed.
The night pa.s.sed without any disturbance although he slept as Fleet would express it "with one eye awake" and with the coming of daylight he was astir. He fed his horse and gave him a rub down preparatory to an early start.
On his way to the shed that morning, he noticed several men whom he had not before seen. Among them he observed the outlaws Jose and Miguel. He paid no attention to them however until they came up beside him. He was engaged in currying his horse.
"That is a good beast you have there," said Miguel. "Cuanto? How much for him?"
"Good morning," responded Chot, and continued, "He isn't for sale."
"Your horse?" went on the man.
"No," said Chot, shortly. "He isn't mine."
"Where do you come from?" asked Miguel.
"I came from Captain Benson's," said Chot, guardedly, thinking it wise not to speak of Rosado.
"Isn't that Mr. Shelton's horse?" asked Jose.
