"At the homestead. Farquhar and his wife were out."
"What brought Winthrop there?"
"That," smiled Alison, "I may tell you some day, but not just now. I wonder what has kept him in the neighborhood?"
"It's easily figured out. He'd head for Mrs. Calvert's, and probably stay an hour or two there; then he'd go on to Brayton's place—they're friends—at night. Jardine's would be his next call, and he'd be striking west away from the larger settlements when Dave came across him."
This struck Alison as probable, but just then Bill came out of the store again.
"Beavan hasn't anything shorter, and he's doing up his accounts. He can't cut threads on bolts, anyway," he announced. "It's Pete who does that kind of thing for him."
Judging from his face, it cost Nevis a determined effort to check an outbreak of fury.
"Then where in thunder is Pete?" he shouted.
It appeared that the man had gone home to supper, and a quarter of an hour passed before he came upon the scene. Then it took him quite as long to operate on the bolt and fit it in the buggy, and Nevis's face was very hot and red when he flung himself into the vehicle. He used the whip savagely, and there was some derisive applause and laughter when the horse went down the street at a gallop with the buggy jolting dangerously in the ruts behind it.
Thorne descended the steps and disappeared. When he came back Mrs. Farquhar's wagon was being brought out, and he walked up to Alison with a parcel in his hand.