uely that his mind was groping for other
words which it could not find. He slipped the revolver into his
pocket, turned and left her.

From the orchard she watched him ride away. Jim was driving the two
big greys, while Shandon followed close behind the wagon, sitting very
straight in the saddle, his face telling her nothing. . . . She sank
back upon the grass under the apple tree and lay still, staring up at
the patches of blue seen through the green and white of the branches
and blossoms.

When at last she went back to the house she heard her father's voice
lifted angrily. He was talking to her mother and the name flung
furiously from his lips was the name of Wayne Shandon.

"Hush, Martin," protested Mrs. Leland. "You mustn't . . ."

Martin Leland, his face red, his mouth working wordlessly, swept up his
hat and went away to the corrals by the stable. Wanda saw his eyes as
he brushed by her and she shivered, drawing away from him.

Garth Conway had already gone, riding the half dozen miles to the Bar
L-M to carry word of the death of its owner, and to assume entire
charge there until Wayne should return. Sledge Hume was loitering down
by the stable.

The day passed, strangely silent. No reference was made in the Leland
household to the tragedy which had stirred each member of it so deeply,
so differently. Throughout the long afternoon Martin Leland remained
among his cattle and horses, often flaring into anger at trifles. Mrs.
Leland was in her room, alone, suffering as she might have suffered had
Arthur and Wayne been the sons nature had denied to her. Wanda
wandered restlessly back and forth, from the house to the stable, about
the yard, where the pigeons whirled and circled and cooed.

The days which followed were like this one, silent, tense, expectant.
It was as though each one of these people was waiting for something,
all but breathless. MacKelvey, a heavy set, quick eyed man, the county
sheriff, came one day and talked long with Martin Leland. The two sat
for an hour on the corral fence below the stable. After that MacKelvey
went away and the waiting, the tense expectancy was more marked than
before.

The tenth day came and went its laughing, blue way. Wayne Shandon did
not come with it, but Garth Conway rode over that evening. He had had
no word from Wayne, although he was expecting him hourly. Two weeks
passed, and still no word from Wayne. One by one, slowly, heavily the
days we