"You want to see her?"
"Yes, else why'd I ask?"
"Come," said Wingate, and led the way to Molly's little cart. The girl was startled when she saw the old scout, her wide eyes asking her question.
"Mornin', Miss Molly!" he began, his leathery face wrinkling in a smile. "Ye didn't expect me, an' I didn't neither. I'm glad ye're about well o' that arrer wound. I kerried a arrerhead under my shoulder blade sever'l years oncet, ontel Preacher Whitman cut hit out. Hit felt right crawly all the time till then.
"Yes, I jest sorntered up couple hundred mile this mornin', Miss Molly, ter see how ye all was gettin' along--one thing er another."
Without much regard to others, he now led Molly a little apart and seated her on the sage beside him.
"Will Banion and Bill Jackson has went on to Californy, Miss Molly," said he. "You know why."
Mollie nodded.
"Ye'd orto! Ye told him."
"Yes, I did."