The man turned and his shrewd eyes fixed themselves piercingly on the little man’s face.

“Yes,” he said shortly, “we’ll get on.”

He led the way, his horse slightly in advance of the mare, and for some time he made no attempt to break the silence that had fallen. The twilight was rapidly passing into the deeper shadows of night, but he rode amongst the hills as though he were traveling a broad open trail. There was no hesitation, no questioning glance as to his direction. He might have been traveling a trail that he had been accustomed to all his life. At last, however, he glanced round at his companion.

“Say, what you goin’ to do when––you get there?” he asked.

“Fetch my wife back,” replied Scipio earnestly.

“What’ll James be doin’?”

“He can’t keep her––s. . . Read More