But he had managed to kill Frank--poor old Frank, who would never grumble and argue over little things again.
There was nothing picturesque, nothing adventurous about it.

It was just straight, heart-breaking tragedy, that had its sordid side too.

Her dad was a querulous sick man absorbed by his sufferings and not yet out of danger, if she read the doctor's face aright.

Jim and Sorry had taken orders all their life, and they would not be able to handle the ranch work alone; yet how else would it be done?
There was Lone,--instinctively she turned her thoughts to him for comfort.

Lone would stay and help, and somehow it would be managed.
But to think that these things could be done without fear of retribution.