I might perhaps have ridden to Pilgrim's Rest and tried to find a white messenger there; indeed afterwards I regretted not having done so, although it would have involved at least a day's absence at a very critical time.

But the truth is I never thought of it until too late, and probably if I had, I should not have been able to discover anyone whom I could trust.
As I walked back to the house, having parted from Footsack on the top of a neighbouring ridge whence I could point out his path to him, I met Marnham riding away.

He pulled up and said that he was going down to the Granite stream to arrange about setting some one up to watch the wagon.

I expressed sorrow that he should have the trouble, which should have been mine if I could have got away, whereon he answered that he was glad of the opportunity for a ride, as it was something to do.
"How do you fill in your time here," I asked carelessly, "as you don't farm ?" "Oh! by trading," he replied, and with a nod set his horse to a canter.
A queer sort of trading, thought I to myself, where there is no store.

Now what exactly does he trade in, I wonder?
As it happened I was destined to find out before I was an hour older.