“It’s better that way,” he nodded. “Do you suppose there’s nothing between him and Nola?”
“I think she’ll have him after her grief passes, Alan.”
“Better than he deserves,” said he. “There’s a lump of gold in that little lady’s heart, Frances.”
“There is, Alan; I’m glad to hear you say that.” There was moisture in her tender eyes.
“There was something in that man, too,” he reflected. “It’s unfortunate that he allowed his desire to humiliate you and me to drive him into such folly. If he’d only have held those brigands here for the civil authorities, as I requested, we could have forgotten the rest.”
“Yes, father says that would have saved him in his eyes, in spite of his scheming with Chadron against your life, and against father’s honor and all that he holds sacred. But it’s done, and he’s genuinely despised in the service for it. And there’s the ambulance coming over the hill.”
“Ambulance for me!” said he, in disgust of his slow mending.
“Be glad that it isn’t—oh, I shouldn’t say that!”
“I am,” said he, nodding his slow, grave head.
“We’ll have to say good-bye to Mrs. Chadron,” 328 said she, bustling around, or making a show of doing so to hide the tears which had sprung into her eyes at the thought that it might have been a different sort of conveyance coming to Alamito to take Alan Macdonald away.