fort.
He waited until Brit opened his eyes again, and then he leaned forward,
holding Brit's wandering glance with his own intent gaze.

"I ain't working now," he said, lowering his voice so that Lorraine
could not hear. "So I'm going to stay here and help see you through with
this. I've quit the Sawtooth."

Brit's eyes cleared and studied Lone's face. "D'you know--anything?"

"No, I don't." Lone's face hardened a little. "But I wanted you to know
that I'm--with the Quirt, now."

"Frank hire yuh?"

"No. I ain't hired at all. I'm just--_with_ yuh."

"We--need yuh," said Brit grimly, looking Lone straight in the eyes.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"FRANK'S DEAD"

"Frank come yet?" The peevish impatience of an invalid whose horizon has
narrowed to his own personal welfare and wants was in Brit's voice. Two
weeks he had been sick, and his temper had not sweetened with the pain
of his broken bones and the enforced idleness. Brit was the type of man
who is never quiet unless he is asleep or too ill to get out of bed.

Lorraine came to the doorway and looked in at him. Two weeks had set
their mark on her also. She seemed older, quieter in her ways; there
were shadows in her eyes and a new seriousness in the set of her mouth.
She had had her burdens, and she had borne them with more patience than
many an older woman would have done, but what she thought of those
burdens she did not say.

"No, dad--but I thought I heard a wagon a little while ago. He must be
coming," she said.

"Where's Lone at?" Brit moved restlessly on the pillow and twisted his
face at the pain.

"Lone isn't back, either."

"He ain't? Where'd he go?"

Lorraine came to the bedside and, lifting Brit's head carefully,
arranged the pillow as she knew he liked it. "I don't know where he
went," she said dully. "He rode off just after dinner. Do you want your
supper now? Or would you rather wait until Frank brings the fruit?"

"I'd ruther wait--if Frank don't take all night," Brit grumbled. "I hope
he ain't connected up with that Echo booze. If he has----"

"Oh, no, dad! Don't borrow trouble. Frank was anxious to get home as
soon as he could. He'll be coming any minute, now. I'll go listen for
the wagon."

"No use listenin'. You couldn't hear it in that sand--not till he gits
to the gate. I don't see where Lone goes to, all the time. Where's Jim
and Sorry, then?"

"Oh, they've had their supper and gone to the bunk-house. Do you want
them?"