They had walked back to the surrey. “Get in,” said Dr. Mayfield. “Now, I call it a rare treat, in an age of mad motors to ride behind old Sam in this surrey.” He backed the venerable steed away from the fence and started him down the road. “My camp is a mile and a half further; no machines allowed--riders and hikers only. As to being able to arrange things for you here, it wasn’t difficult; the regular Ranger is a very good friend of mine, and he has had a real vacation coming to him for a long time. He’ll stay with you for a while, of course, and put you on to the ropes. Steady, Sam, old boy!” He applied a shrieking brake as they jolted down a bank and into a shallow, hurrying stream. “The Sur goes through the camp in three places,” he said. “This is great country, my boy. Wildest county in California, and I hope it always will be.” They splashed noisily across the little river and climbed steeply out again. “Well, I fancy you haven’t any difficulty in keeping machines out,” commented Dean, looking back. “They don’t often try it twice--not the _same_ machine,” his friend exulted. They were jogging along on a curving road, now, through the narrow valley. “The ocean’s over there, three miles,” he gestured to the right. “Near enough to get the tang of it, but far enough to miss the fog; the mountains on this side are the Santa Lucia range--Ventanas off to the left. Just wait till I get you on a horse and give you the first real glimpse of it! Oh, by the way--I got Snort for you!” “Really! Great work, Doctor. I _am_ pleased!--But I don’t know how I can ever thank you for taking so much trouble.” But Dr. Mayfield had been taking trouble for people all his life and now that he was retired from practice he considered that he had nothing else to do. “’Rome Ojeda didn’t want to let him go, not a little bit, but I said I simply had to have him for a friend of mine, a Ranger up here, and Ginger brought him round. I guess Ginger can make him do just about anything she wants,” he chuckled, “hard-boiled cow-puncher that he is.” He was rather elaborately casual about it, and he thought he saw the young man’s sunburn reinforced by a deeper color. “Is she--I hope Ginger is well?” said Dean Wolcott civilly.