"Yes, it looked like that."
But the ranch came in sight, its broad, fertile acres dim in the fading light. The smell of the fresh earth of fall plowing struck the nostrils, and a tang of wood smoke from new clearing. From the corrals came the voices of cattle. A colt whinnied in youthful falsetto for his dam. All sounds carried far in the hush of evening.
"Seems odd to think this will be broken up," Angus said. "Houses and streets on the good land; maybe a church on that knoll, a school over yonder. I ought to be glad, because it means money. But I'm not."
"I know," his wife nodded wisely. "I've been a wanderer and a city dweller most of my life, but I can understand how the one spot on all the earth may claim a man. And you'll always want a ranch, and stock, and wide spaces, no matter how much money you have. Oh, yes, boy, I know."
"I guess you are right," he admitted. "I grew up that way. Well, there's plenty of time to think it over. I can take another crop off this." He lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Old girl," he said, "I believe I smell grub—real grub—cooking. And I haven't had a real meal for three days. We were sort of shy coming out, you know."
"My heavens!" Faith cried, "Turkey said the same thing. When I left he was telling Mrs. Foley he would marry her for a pie. Let's hurry."
Some hours later Angus, shaven and fed, sat with Faith enjoying rest and tobacco. It was good to lie back in a chair, to relax, to be in a house again protected from the wind and cold, to look forward to a comfortable bed in place of one blanket and such browse as could be scraped into a heap as a dog scrapes leaves and rubbish to lie on. Though he could sleep anywhere, by virtue of youth and a hard body, he appreciated comfort.
Earlier in the evening Jean, Chetwood and Turkey had borne them company. But the two former had gone, followed by caustic comment from the latter. And soon after that young gentleman had announced that Angus and Faith were a darn sight worse, and that he was going to bed.
Left alone, Faith spoke the thing which was in her mind.
"I am glad," she said, "that it was not you who killed Blake."