She stopped abruptly; the hard note in her young voice was like an echo of those cruel days. Harry was silent. How simple it all was now; Joe's mysterious cut; Mrs. Biane's suspicion of strangers or even of friends; Joe's poaching; Isita's terror, and the never-explained stampeding of the herds that night.
With a new, less bitter, accent in her voice, the younger girl went on: "Before, it hadn't seemed so bad to me. But after I knew you, when you were so generous, so kind, things were different. Oh, I wanted to be friends! You never guessed. But, of course, they wouldn't let me. I had to be round home to keep watch. You know. And then they knew I'd have warned you, put you on your guard. You know I would of, don't you?"
"Dear Isita," Harry said, much moved, "of course I know you would have." The realization of what this mere child had suffered made her own loss insignificant. "There's one thing I should like to know, though," she said. "Your father must have made money selling beef to the butcher. Why were you always so poor? You had scarcely enough to eat."
"He gambled it all away as fast as he made it. Mother and I never saw a penny."
"I understand. Well, don't let's think of it any more!" Harry exclaimed. "All that is past and gone. I've lost a few cattle, but I've gained a real friend. I'm satisfied, and I think we're going to have no end of good times together." Her ringing voice, her beaming face, would have reassured the most troubled heart, and in fact, for the first time in many days Isita smiled happily.
There was only one shadow to mar Harry's satisfaction. This was the knowledge that in taking Isita home she was adding another burden of expense to Rob's already heavy load. Of course, if he succeeded in finding a buyer for her herd there would not be the debt to Ludlum to reckon with, and if they did go down to the South Side she could probably find work in the large towns there.
When, after resting for the night at a ranch house, they started on again the next morning, her mind was busy with plans. Even if her herd were sold, they would need more money for part payment on hay to feed Rob's stock. And if she did go to work for wages, it would not be hard to place Isita with some good family who would give her her board in exchange for help with the housework while she went to school. Yes, it seemed that all would arrange itself; that is, if only Rob had managed to sell her herd and to find hay for his own.
"If only! if only!" The monotonous clip-clop! of the horses feet repeated those significant little words—significant because upon them hinged all that had gone before. If only she had been satisfied with thirty head! If she had not been in such a hurry to own a big herd! If only she had not lost her temper and in doing so shot one of Ludlum's cows! If only she had herded her own cattle more understandingly! As she looked back over the year she saw that from the very start she had done things that meant spending money, had got herself and her brother into predicaments, while Rob had plodded behind straightening out the difficulties, and finding the money to pay for her mistakes.
And now here she was bringing home Isita! Not that she could have refused the responsibility. Rob would not have wanted her to do that. Only somehow, Isita seemed to be the last straw that she was adding to his load. A sudden vision rose up before her of Rob traveling endless miles up and down the South Side hunting for hay, hunting for a buyer of her herd.