"Really, this is getting a bit serious," whispered Crosby to his breathless companion.
The deputy was now on the seat with Higgins, and the latter, bewildered and dismayed beyond expression, was urging his horses into their fastest trot.
"How far is it to Lonesomeville?" asked the deputy.
"'Bout two mile."
"It'll rain before we get there," said the other significantly.
"I'm not afeared of rain," said Higgins.
"What are you goin' over there this time o' night for?" asked the other.
"You ain't got much of a load."
"I'm—I'm takin' some meat over to Mr. Talbert."
"Hams?"
"No; jest bacon," answered Scott, and his two hearers in the wagon-bed laughed silently.