CHAPTER XLVII
PEACE
Angus was riding up to the French ranch. He had just parted from his companions. Their homeward progress had been slow because of the wounded men. Turkey and Rennie had gone on toward the home ranch, and Bush and the other toward town. But he had turned off the trail to see Kathleen. He hated his errand, but it was better that he should tell her than leave it to a stranger. He would be glad to get it over and go home—to Faith.
As he approached the house he saw her. Apparently she had seen him coming, for she came down to greet him. He dismounted stiffly. He felt her eyes searching his face.
"Well?" she queried. He shook his head.
"I am sorry, Kathleen. It is bad news."
"I expected it," she said quietly. "Tell me about it—all!"
He told her the main facts, omitting details. When he had concluded she sat motionless, her eyes on the glory of the evening sky above the western ranges.
"I am sorry," he said again.
"I understand," she said. "You are sorry that it had to be. I knew what might happen if the boys were overtaken. It was inevitable. Well, they made their choice and took their chance, and it went against them. I think Gavin will tell me more than you have told me—some day. Well, this is the end of a good many things. I was merely waiting for word. To-morrow I am going away."