GETTING STARTED 11 
‘“‘Those things there,’’ he said, pointing to the 
larger stock, ‘‘will go back to your hotel. These 
here,’’ and he indicated a forlorn little pile of bed- 
ding and clothes, ‘‘will go in the train with us. 
You’d better toss them on quickly, because we start 
in three minutes.’’ 
He turned and clambered on the train, leaving 
Horace to struggle with his repacking alone. This 
was unwise, as it turned out later, for in the proc- 
ess he managed to slip enough medicine, books, and 
dehydrated vegetables into his bed to earn for him- 
self the undying enmity of the packers and doubt- 
less of the capable little burro whose lot it was to 
carry the load through the fastnesses of the Black 
Range. 
The incident had the effect of casting a temporary 
shadow over the bright impression Horace had 
produced the day before. I noticed that, from time 
to time, Frazer eyed his ‘‘crackerjack cruiser’’ dur- 
ing the journey to Hillsboro with a puzzled, disap- 
pointed look which held more of sorrow than of an- 
ger. 
We arrived at our destination the following after- 
noon and were met at the station by Brown, whose 
countenance was positively lugubrious. 
‘‘What’s the matter?’’ queried Frazer sharply. 
‘‘Anybody dead?”’ 
Brown’s expression became, if anything, more 
gloomy than before. 
“‘He’s on one,’’ he remarked succinctly, jerking 
