e
whether he went away or remained; he had not asked if this were to be a
brief absence or an indefinite sojourn.

'Yes,' Carr's answer at last was short and blunt; 'I have business
there.'

Carr thought that if Alan were interested he would ask naturally, as
one friend had always asked the other, to know more. Howard thought
that if Carr cared to speak of his own personal affairs he would do so.
Hence, while both waited, neither spoke. Perhaps both were hurt.
Certainly the constraint between them thickened and deepened in step
with the engulfing night; they could not see each other's faces, they
could not glimpse each other's souls. Both were baffled and into the
temper of each came a growing irritation. One thing alone they
appeared to have in common--the desire to come to the end of the ride.
Their spurs dipped and they raced along wordlessly.

When Howard dismounted at the home corrals and began unsaddling, Carr
rode on to the house.

'You're going to stay all night, John,' Howard called after him. 'Put
your horse in the barn.'

But Carr swung down at the yard gate and tied his horse there.

'Can't this time,' he said. 'I'll have to ride on, Al.'

Thus each made his pretence, less to his friend than to himself, that
everything was all right. They sought to be natural and failed, and
knew that they had failed. Carr waited for Howard, smoking at the
gate; Howard hastened up to the house and went in. He struck a match,
lighted the table lamp and filled the pipe lying beside it. Carr
tossed his hat to the table and sat down. Their eyes roved about the
familiar room. Here were countless traces of both men; Carr had lived
here, Howard lived here now. Helen had been here, and she too had left
something to mark her passing. They both saw it. It was only a
bluebird's feather, but Alan had set it in a place of conspicuousness
just above the fireplace. Even into a room which had been home to
each, which they had held must always be home to both, something of
Helen came like a little ghost.

'You'll have use for some money about now,' said Howard abruptly. He
drew out the table drawer; inside were scraps of paper, a fountain-pen,
a cheque-book and some old stubs. 'Time's up for a payment, too. I
sold a pretty fair string the other day.'

'I could use a little cash,' Carr admitted carelessly. 'I've got in
pretty deep with the Quigley mining outfit. I made Longstreet a
proposition--I am a trifle s