ight turn, he had never heard either mention them. If Dill had
been there he would have left it to him; but Dill was gone, and there
was no knowing when he would be back, and it devolved upon Billy
to make some arrangements for the women, or at the least offer
his services--and it was, under the circumstances, quite the most
unpleasant duty thus far laid upon him.

He knew they had been left there at the ranch when round-up started,
because Dill had said something about leaving a gentle horse or two
for them to ride. Whether they were still there he did not know,
although he could easily have asked Spikes, who had been given charge
of the ranch while Dill was away on the range. He supposed the Pilgrim
would be hanging around, as usual--not that it made much difference,
though, except that he hated the thought of a disagreeable scene
before the women.

He rode slowly up to the corral gate, turned his horse inside and
fastened the chain just as he had done a thousand times before--only
this would be the last time. His tired eyes went from one familiar
object to another, listlessly aware of the regret he should feel but
too utterly wearied of sorrow to feel much of anything. No one seemed
to be about, and the whole place had an atmosphere of desolation that
almost stirred him to a heartache--almost.

He went on to the house. There were some signs of life there, and some
sound. In the very doorway he met old Bridger himself, but he could
not even feel much surprise at seeing him there. He said hello, and
when he saw the other's hand stretching out to meet him, he clasped it
indifferently. Behind her husband, Mama Joy flashed at him a look he
did not try to interpret--of a truth it was rather complex, with a
little of several emotions--and he lifted his hat a half-inch from his
forehead in deference to her sex. Flora, he thanked God dully, he did
not see at all.

He stayed perhaps ten minutes listening impersonally to Bridger, who
talked loudly and enthusiastically of his plans. At the time they did
not seem to concern him at all, though they involved taking Flora and
Mama Joy away to Seattle to spend the winter, and in the spring moving
them on to some place in the North--a place that sounded strange in
the ears of Billy, and was straightway forgotten.

After that he went to his room and packed what few things he wanted;
and they were not many, because in his present mood nothing mattered
and nothing seemed to him of