"There she is," he said, pointing ahead. "She ain't been wiped away by
nobody or nothin'. Don't you see her, that big, stout cabin ahead?"

"I do," said young Allen joyously, "and it's the Inn of the Panther as
sure as you live."

"But I don't see any smoke coming out of the chimney," said Ned, "and
there are no gorgeous menials standing on the doorstep waiting for us."

"It's been abandoned a long time," said the Panther. "I can tell that by
its looks, but I'm thinkin' that it's good enough fur us an' mighty
welcome. An' there's a shed behind the house that'll do for the horses.
Boys, we're travelin' in tall luck."

The cabin, a large one, built of logs and adobe, was certainly a
consoling sight. They had almost reached the limit of physical
endurance, but they broke into a run to reach it. The Panther and Ned
were the first to push open a heavy swinging door, and they entered side
by side. It was dry within. The solid board roof did not seem to be
damaged at all, and the floor of hard, packed earth was as dry as a bone
also. At one end were a wide stone fireplace, cold long since, and a
good chimney of mud and sticks. There were two windows, closed with
heavy clapboard shutters.

There was no furniture in the cabin except two rough wooden benches.
Evidently the original owners had prepared well for their flight, but it
was likely that no one had come since. The lonely place among the trees
had passed unobserved by raiders. The shed behind the cabin was also in
good condition, and they tethered there the horses, which were glad
enough to escape from the bitter wind and driving snow.