The Claim Jumpers - Page 62/103

They tried to guess at its location.

The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt

outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the

afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below

them at the mouth of a mighty cañon, like a toy village on fine velvet

brown.

In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington

to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that

Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the

hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with

their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good

stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he

finally got to bed.

The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He

hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the

intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found

to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets.

The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was

jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he

had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called,

and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods

box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction.

"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward

her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment.

Bennington explained.

"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box.

Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson

already."

Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly

along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first

horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of

dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The

crowd flowed into the street again.

The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods

box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was

very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both

remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things.

"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young

cattleman.

The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile.

"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered

politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He

glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to

follow his own advice.