Eagerly Rick read over again the message that his mother surrendered to him. At first he could not grasp it all, but gradually the import came to him.  
Uncle Tod had strangely, quickly and mysteriously gone out west, and now he wanted Rick and Ruddy to follow—that much was clear at all events. What he wanted Rick to do was still a mystery.
 
“I guess he wants me to help him, same as he did when he had trouble with Bucktooth Slither,” suggested Rick, in answer to his mother’s suggestive glance.
 
“But I thought that Slither went away,” said Mrs. Dalton.
 
“He did, so this must be somebody else,” spoke¹ Rick. “Oh, Mother, may Ruddy and I go?” he pleaded.
 
“We’ll have to see about it,” was her answer, “and talk it over with your father. Of course there is no school now, and you always wanted to see the west. But as for taking Ruddy—”
 
“Oh, I couldn’t go without Ruddy!” cried Rick. “Could I, old boy!” and he flung his arms around the shaggy head of his beloved dog.
 
“Well, we’ll see,” was all Mrs. Dalton could say. “Where is this Bitter Sweet Gulch², anyhow?”
 
“Out west—that’s all I know,” answered Rick. “Oh, boy! Out west! And Uncle Tod says for me to bring another fellow!” he added.
 
“Whom will you take—that is providing you can go?” asked his mother.
 
“Chot, of course,” was the ready reply. “He and I are better chums than any of the other fellows, though I like ’em all. But Ruddy will mind Chot almost as good as he does me. I’m going over and tell Chot to get ready.”
 
“No! Not yet!” commanded Mrs. Dalton, catching⁴ Rick as he would have rushed from the house. “Maybe you can’t go, and there’s no use getting Chot all worked up and then disappointing him.”
 
“Oh, I hope we can go! I hope we can go!” murmured Rick. “Don’t you want to go, Ruddy?” he asked his dog. And if the joyous⁵ activity of the setter was any indication, he most certainly did want to go.
 
“Hum,” was all Mr. Dalton said later, when told of the new turn in events. “Well, at any rate, Uncle Tod telegraphed as he said he would. But I’d like to know considerable more of what it’s about.”
 
“He says he’s going to explain later,” remarked Rick. “But if you let me and Chot and Ruddy go out there, Dad, we could write back all about it.”
 
“I’ll see,” was all the satisfaction Rick got from his father.
 
“But when will you see?” persisted the lad. “Uncle Tod wants us in a hurry, or he wouldn’t have telegraphed. When will you see, Dad?”
 
“Oh, I’ll send him a night letter asking for more explanations,” was Mr. Dalton’s decision. “If it’s all right you can go.”
 
And in the morning, following the despatch⁷ of the night letter to Bitter Sweet Gulch, there came another telegram from Uncle Tod to Mr. Dalton. The contents of this message Mr. Dalton did not tell his son, but it seemed to be satisfactory, for when Rick, with eager voice asked again:
 
“Can we go?”
 
The answer was:
 
“Get ready!”
 
“Whoop!” yelled Rick. “Now I can tell Chot!” and away he and Ruddy raced to the home of his chum. “Chot! Chot!” yelled Rick. “We’re going out west!”
 
“Who is? You and Ruddy?”
 
“Yes, and you! Oh, boy! It’s too good to be true! Listen!” And Rick breathlessly told as much of the story as was needful.
 
Chot clasped his chum firmly by the hand and led him into the presence of Mrs. Benson.
 
“Tell her, Rick,” besought⁸ Chot, with pathetic eagerness. “And then say I can go, Momsie! Oh, say I can go!” he pleaded.
 
“Well, what’s all this about?” asked Chot’s mother with a laugh.
 
And when she had been told she looked a little serious and said, as Mrs. Dalton had said: “I’ll see.”
 
However, not to go into too many details about the discussion of the questions, pro³ and con⁶, let it be said that finally permission was given for Chot to accompany Rick and Ruddy out west.
 
And then, as you may well imagine, busy times began in both households, for though, as compared to girls, boys are not difficult subjects to prepare for a journey, in this case there was Ruddy the dog to be considered.
 
“I don’t really see how you are going to take him,” said Mr. Dalton, when the arrangements had been pretty well settled as to Rick and Chot. “Ruddy will have to ride in baggage cars, and he ought to be put in a crate⁹. He’s bound to be miserable¹⁰ and he may get loose and jump out.”
 
Rick looked serious on hearing this.
 
“You’d better leave him behind,” suggested Mrs. Dalton.
 
“Nope!” declared Rick. “If Ruddy can’t go I don’t go—besides, Uncle Tod asked specially¹¹ for him.”
 
“Well,” began Mr. Dalton, “I don’t see—”
 
And then Mazie interrupted with a joyous cry of:
 
“Oh, I’ve just thought of something! They could all go out in an auto¹²; couldn’t they; Rick, Ruddy and Chot?”
 
“We could if we had a car,” answered Rick, a bit gloomily.
 
“It would be swell¹³!” declared Chot. “But we can’t drive a car away out beyond the Rockies. Besides, we haven’t any.”
 
“No, but Mr. Campbell has,” said Mazie. “He’s going to go out west in his touring car, and Mabel Campbell was saying to me yesterday her father wished he had some one to make the trip with him, as none of them can go and he doesn’t like to travel alone.”
 
“Is that so?” asked Mr. Dalton, and some of the perplexity faded from his face. “Well, if Mr. Campbell would take the boys and dog—Oh, but it’s too much to ask.”
 
“I think he’d like it,” suggested Mrs. Dalton. “He’s always very friendly with Rick and Ruddy. Why don’t you call him up and ask him?”
 
“Please do!” begged Rick.
 
“All right,” assented¹⁵ his father, rather reluctantly. “But it seems to me like a pretty large order.”
 
However Mr. Campbell, who lived a few houses down the street, was soon talking over the wire to Mr. Dalton, and the upshot of it was that he readily agreed to take the boys and dog with him in his large touring car. He was going all the way to San Francisco and Bitter Sweet Gulch was not much off his trail, he said. He would be glad to leave the boys and Ruddy there.
 
“Well, this looks better,” said Mr. Dalton, when he had expressed his own thanks and those of the boys. “It will be a lot easier going by auto, especially with the dog. Of course it may take a little longer, but that can’t be helped. I’ll telegraph Uncle Tod you are coming.”
 
Rick and Chot did an impromptu¹⁶ war dance about the room, and Ruddy joined in while Mazie smiled happily, glad that she had been the means of solving what had been a difficult problem.
 
Reservations that had been asked for in regard to railroad tickets and sleeping car berths¹⁷ were cancelled, and the boys began to go over again the lists of things they were going to take with them. Mr. Dalton went to call on Mr. Campbell to get the names of the different cities, where stops would be made, so he could get in touch with Chot and Rick on the way out.
 
“Oh, boy! Isn’t this the best ever!” cried Rick to Chot each time they met in the days that intervened before the start.
 
“Couldn’t be better!” was the answer.
 
Mrs. Dalton shook her head and sighed once or twice.
 
“I’m sure I want you boys to have a good time,” she said, “but it is all so mysterious. What is Uncle Tod doing out there, and if he was needed why couldn’t he have been sent for in the regular way, instead of being summoned by a cabbage leaf and a bullet?”
 
“That’s the best part of it,” chuckled¹⁸ Rick, “the mystery.”
 
“You must tell me all about it,” begged Mazie.
 
“We will,” promised Chot. “When we find it out ourselves.”
 
At last the preparations were completed, the boys’ bags were packed, Mr. Campbell had had his car inspected and “tuned-up,” and on a fine, sunny morning the little party started for the west.
 
“Good-bye! Good-bye!” was called again, and in the eyes of Mrs. Dalton and Mrs. Benson were traces of tears.
 
“Well,” said Mr. Campbell, as he shook hands with Mr. Benson and Mr. Dalton, “I’ll look after the boys all right—don’t worry.”
 
“I won’t,” said Mr. Dalton, and Chot’s father nodded in assent¹⁴.
 
They had fairly started but stopped as Mrs. Dalton cried:
 
“Here comes the telegraph boy! Maybe there’s a message from Uncle Tod! Wait a minute!”
 
Rick and Chot felt a sinking sensation in the region of their hearts as they thought perhaps this might be a message telling them not to come.