she said honestly. "I'm only sorry I didn't realize earlier that
you need to get away."

She went out of the room with something of the regal industry of the queen
bee, as if she were the natural source of those agencies which sustain and
heal. He heard her as she busied herself in their bedroom. He knew that
she was already making preparations for that journey of his. She was
singing a soft, wordless song in her throat as she worked.

And Harboro, with an effect of listening with his eyes, stood in his place
for a long interval, and then shook his head slowly.

He could not believe in her; he would not believe in her. At least he
would not believe in her until she had been put to the test and met the
test triumphantly. He could not believe in her; and yet it seemed equally
impossible for him to hold with assurance to his unbelief.

CHAPTER XXVII

Returning from the office the next forenoon, Harboro stopped at the head
of the short street on which the chief stable of Eagle Pass was situated.

He had had no difficulty in obtaining a leave of absence, which was to be
for one week with the privilege of having it extended to twice that time
if he felt he needed it. In truth, his immediate superior had heartily
approved of the plan of his going for an outing. He had noticed, he
admitted, that Harboro hadn't been altogether fit of late. He was glad he
had decided to go away for a few days. He good-naturedly insisted upon the
leave of absence taking effect immediately.

And Harboro had turned back toward Eagle Pass pondering darkly.

He scanned the street in the direction of the stable. A stable-boy was
exercising a young horse in the street, leading it back and forth, but
otherwise the thoroughfare seemed somnolently quiet.

He sauntered along until he came to the stable entrance. He had the
thought of entering into a casual conversation with the proprietor. He
would try to get at the actual facts touching that mistake the stable
people had made. He would not question them too pointedly. He would not
betray the fact that he believed something was wrong. He would put his
questions casually, innocently.

The boy was just turning in with the horse he had been exercising. He
regarded Harboro expectantly. He was the boy who had brought the horses on
the night of that ride to the Quemado.

"I didn't want anything," said Harboro; "that is, nothing in particular.
I'll be likely to need a horse in a day or two, tha