He had a swift, uneasy vision of the occurrences of the night just past.
“But you haven’t heard—,” he commenced.
“Oh, yes; I’ve heard,” she interrupted. “The news was telephoned up here and was spread all over Caldwell before you even took the train from Oval Springs. That doesn’t matter either. Hinman phoned to Mattison at the hotel and found that you were coming. That’s how I knew and why I was waiting up. I’ve rented those two horses so we could ride instead of taking a train to Oval Springs. I’d rather, wouldn’t you?”
“We’ll start in just one minute, Honey,” he said. “But first—”
She looked the length of the street and nodded, for there was no one abroad.
Some miles out of Caldwell the girl pulled up her horse where the road crossed the point of a hill.
“You remember?” she asked.
“I won’t forget,” he said.
For it was from this same point that they had watched the last of the herds of the big cow outfits held in the quarantine belt awaiting shipment, the riders guarding them, the trail herds moving up from the south, while over across had been that solid line of camps where the settlers were waiting to come in.
“We saw the sun set on the old days here,” she said. “Let’s watch it rise on the new.”