“If you will agree to carry chain and drive stakes to begin with, you may count it a settled thing so far as I am concerned,” he said. “But how about your father and mother? Will they let you go?” “The governor’s all right; I’ve just had a talk with him, and he is so glad to get rid of me that he is scared to death for fear you won’t take me. And the mother will be all right, too; she’ll do anything I want her to, same as she always does, you know. I’ll go and tell her now, before----” But just then the door opened again, and Mrs. Langford needed not to be sought. She came in with the air of one who does an unavoidable thing reluctantly, but her stateliness abated visibly at sight of her son. The “cub” promptly forestalled anything in the way of preliminary formalities. “Just this minute talking about you, mother,” he burst out, in happy ignorance of constraints or embarrassments, social or other. “Come and shake hands with Mr. Brant and congratulate him on getting out of the horrible scrape I got him into. But that isn’t what we were talking about, you know; he starts for the San Juan to-morrow morning--going down to take charge of the Chipeta work--and he has promised to take me with him.” “Subject, of course, to your approval and Judge Langford’s,” amended Brant, with a bow in Mrs. Langford’s direction. “Oh, of course; but I told you that would be all right. What’s the matter with you, mother? Can’t you manage to thank Mr. Brant? It’s jolly good of him, y’know.” “I--why, William, dear, this is dreadfully sudden! I didn’t know you were even thinking of such a thing!” The good lady had formulated quite a number of cool little speeches wherewith to dampen any small spark of ardour which the unwelcome visitor might attempt to blow alive, but here was a contingency for which no forethought could have made provision. So she hesitated, and before the needed access of severity came to forbid it she was doing very nearly as her son had commanded. “We are glad--very glad, I am sure, Mr. Brant,” she faltered, not knowing just how fittingly to congratulate a man upon having got out of jail--out of the very noose of the hangman. “This is really an unexpected pleasure--no, not quite that, either, for I got your note. But about this--this expedition; I am afraid-- Hasn’t William been taking too much for granted?” “Not on my part,” rejoined Brant civilly. “I assure you I shall be glad enough to have him with me, if he may go with your consent.” “But it is so very sudden,” the mother protested, still unable to orient herself. “I had thought--that is, I had been led to believe that you came upon quite a different errand, Mr. Brant.” “Oh, of course; he came to see Dorothy,” said William with brotherly brutality. “But that’s all right. They’ll have time enough to say any quantity of good-byes while you’re helping me to pack. Come on upstairs with me, please; I can’t begin to find half of my things if you don’t help me.”