Suddenly, for Clyde, the sunlight lost its golden charm. In an altered tone she said:
"Indeed!" And she added deliberately: "I don't think I ever met a nicer girl than Miss McCrae."
"No nicer anywhere," he agreed heartily. "Well, perhaps we'd better be moving. We have a long ride yet."
Their way led by devious cattle trails along the coulées, over ridges, into other coulées. Clyde lost all idea of direction, but her companion was never at a loss, and finally they emerged upon a broad, well-travelled trail. Then Clyde, after much inward debate, told Casey of her presence that morning at the interview with Dade and Cross.
"Well, they're quite a pair," said Casey. "They came to run some sort of a bluff, but concluded not to push it to a show-down. They'll make trouble for us, I suppose. They're simply hired men, and that's their job."
"What kind of trouble?"
"I wish I knew," he replied, shaking his head.
"Is it all worth while?" she asked. "I haven't asked a question about the blown-up dam and the cut ditches. I'm not going to. But where will it end? You admit that there may be violence—even bloodshed. Why not avoid it?"
"How?"
"By letting the courts settle it."