CHAPTER IX
"Drop That Gun!"
The day of the baile the mail brought Nan a peremptory letter from her father. It said in part:
"You have carried your impossible escapade too far already; you must come home else I shall send some member of the family to stay with you until you are ready to return."
Nan knew that he would keep his word and, unless assured of her speedy return, her brother, sister, perhaps her mother, would be sent somewhat in the capacity of guardian to, or keeper of, the mildly insane.
It would be sheer martyrdom to any of the family to share, even for a week, the picturesque life with its indolence and idleness which had gripped her so hard.
From the time of her arrival the days had slipped by with incredible swiftness. In the cool of the mornings she saddled her horse and followed the trails along the river, flush-
