Weeks of travel and reflection had not helped him to grasp the meaning between the lines.
"Yes, dad's growin' old," mused Jean, feeling a warmth and a sadness stir in him.

"He must be 'way over sixty.

But he never looked old....
So he's rich now an' losin' stock, an' goin' to be sheeped off his range.

Dad could stand a lot of rustlin', but not much from sheepmen." The softness that stirred in Jean merged into a cold, thoughtful earnestness which had followed every perusal of his father's letter.

A dark, full current seemed flowing in his veins, and at times he felt it swell and heat.