Chapter
11
The horses, resting frequently and lathered by the work, had climbed the steep grade of the old road to Moraga Valley, and on the divide of the Contra Costa hills the way descended sharply through the green and sunny stillness of Redwood Canyon.
"Say, ain't it swell?" Billy queried, with a wave of his hand indicating the circled tree-groups, the trickle of unseen water, and the summer hum of bees.
"I love it"' Saxon affirmed. "It makes me want to live in the country, and I never have."
"Me, too, Saxon. I've never lived in the country in my life—an' all my folks was country folks."
"No cities then. Everybody lived in the country."
"I guess you're right," he nodded. "They just had to live in the country."
There was no brake on the light carriage, and Billy became absorbed
