"W'y, yes—'twas some ornery name."
"Was it—was it Matthews?"
Complete bewilderment spoke from Lancaster's wide-open eyes and mouth. He whirled about upon the evangelist and seized the reins. Shadrach came to a squatting stop, his ears turning round to catch a command. "Thet's it! Thet's it!" cried the section-boss. "An' how d' you know?"
The two men looked at each other in silence. Lancaster's face was dark with distrust; David Bond's, pale with alarm.
"How?" exclaimed the latter, when his tongue at last answered his will; "how? Because Matthews came north with me yesterday!"
If Shadrach possessed the sense his master claimed for him, he must have concluded then and there that the human beings in the pung had gone stark mad. For after some excited shouting, the one to the other, they brought him square about and sent him scurrying back toward Brannon.
They did not retrace their way, but steered due south, thus saving the few miles that could take them again through Clark's. Shadrach approved the change in direction, which pointed to a snug corner beside the friendly bull-calf, and fairly skimmed the hard snow. He had already gone forty long miles since morning. Yet, undaunted, he took up the return with good zest, holding a smart pace unwearily. He breathed deep, and his long Roman nose—thrust out on a line with his rocking back—smoked like an eager charger's.
In the first half-hour that followed the evangelist's disquieting admission, he listened to a wild, profane tirade: against himself, for having failed to speak of Matthews; against Dallas, for being in such a tarnal hurry; against Lounsbury on general principles. The section-boss found only one person wholly exempt from blame—himself. So he cursed, he threatened, he wrung his hands, he grabbed a crutch, and, leaning forward, poked the straining flanks of the white horse.
"Gentle, gentle," admonished David Bond. "He goes fastest who goes steadily. I have driven Shadrach ninety miles in twenty-two hours. And if we are patient with him now, he will get us home by reveille."
But Lancaster only groaned ungratefully and continued to ply the crutch.