"Cless, send round to Smith for the lad's outfit, an' saddle up for him at
once." Then he turned to me. "Now some grub, an' a pan or two."

Having camped before, I knew how to buy supplies. Buell, however, cut out
much that I wanted, saying the thing to think of was a light pack for the
pony.

"I'll hurry to the hotel and get my things," I said, "and meet you here.
I'll not be a moment."

But Buell said it would be better for him to go with me, though he did not
explain. He kept with me, still he remained in the office while I went
up-stairs. Somehow this suited me, for I did not want him to see the broken
window. I took a few things from my grip and rolled them in a bundle. Then
I took a little leather case of odds and ends I had always carried when
camping and slipped it into my pocket. Hurrying down-stairs I left my grip
with the porter, wrote and mailed a postal card to my father, and followed
the impatient Buell.

"You see, it's a smart lick of a ride to Penetier, and I want to get there
before dark," he explained, kindly.

I could have shouted for very glee when I saw the black mustang saddled and
bridled.

"He's well broke," said Cless. "Keep his bridle down when you ain't in the
saddle. An' find a patch of grass fer him at night. The pony'll stick to
him."