* * * *

There were few at the supper-table that night, and there was none of the
noisy banter which usually prevailed. The grub-liners came in softly and
spoke in hushed tones, out of a kind of respect for two empty chairs which
had been the recognized seats of Tubbs and the Indian woman.

Ralston bowed gravely as Dora entered--pale, her eyes showing traces of
recent tears. Susie was absent, having no heart for food or company, and
preferring to sit beside her mother for the brief time which remained to
her. Even Meeteetse Ed shared in the general depression, and therefore it
was in no spirit of flippancy that he observed as he replaced his cup
violently in its saucer:

"Gosh A'mighty, Ling, you must have biled a gum-boot in this here tea!"

Dora, who had drank nearly half of hers, was unable to account for the
peculiar tang which destroyed its flavor, and Ralston eyed the contents of
his cup doubtfully after each swallow.

"Like as not the water's gittin' alkali," ventured Old Man Rulison.

"Alkali nothin'. That's gum-boot, or else a plug of Battle Ax fell in."

Ling bore Meeteetse's criticisms with surprising equanimity.

A moment later the lights blurred for Dora.

"I--I feel faint," she whispered, striving to rise.

Ralston, who had already noted her increasing pallor, hastened around the
table and helped her into the air. Ling's immobile face was a study as he
saw them leave the room together, but satisfaction was the most marked of
its many expressions. He watched them from the pantry window as they
walked to the cottonwood log which served as a garden-seat for all.

"I wonder if it was that queer tea?"

"It has been a hard day for you," Ralston replied gently.

Dora was silent, and they remained so for some minutes. Ralston spoke at
last and with an effort.

"I am sorry--sorrier than I can tell you--that it has been necessary for
me to hurt you. I should rather, far, far rather, hurt myself than you,
Miss Marshall--I wish I could make you know that. What I have done has
been because it was my duty. I am employed by men who trust me, and I was
in honor bound to follow the course I have; but if I had known what I know
now--if I had been sure--I might in some way have made it easier for you.
I am going away to-morrow, and perhaps it will do no harm to tell you that
I had hoped"--he stopped to steady his voice, and went on--"I had hoped
that our friendship might end differently.