What she was thinking was that if Nash had been so close to Bard three days before he was surely on the trail of the tenderfoot and certainly that meeting in her place had not been a casual one.

She set her teeth, thinking of the promise Nash had given to her.

Undoubtedly he had laughed at it afterward.

And now Bard probably lay stretched on his back somewhere among the silent hills looking up to the pitiless brightness of the sky with eyes which could never shut.
The hollow feeling of which Sally had complained to Bert grew to a positive ache, and the tears stood up closer to her eyes.
"Wait around town," she said in a changed voice.

"I think I heard him say something of riding out, but he'll be back before long.