Blake coolly filled his pipe. "There's no other remedy. Before I go to sleep I'll picket the horses close beside me and if you steal away on foot during the night, I'll ride you down a few hours after daybreak. I think you understand me, and there's nothing more to be said."
He tried to talk about other matters and found it hard, for Benson, tormented by his craving, made no response. Darkness crept in about them and the prairie grew shadowy. The leaves in the bluff rustled in a faint, cold wind, and the smoke of the fire drifted round the men. For a while Benson sat moodily watching his companion, and then, wrapping his blanket round him, lay down and turned away his head. It was now very dark outside the flickering light of the fire, and by and by Blake, who felt the strain of the situation, strolled towards the horses and chose a resting-place beside their pickets.
Waking in the cold of daybreak, he saw Benson asleep, and made breakfast before he called him. They ate in silence and then Blake led up the pony.
"I think we'll make a start," he said as cheerfully as he could.
For a moment or two Benson hesitated, standing with hands clenched and baffled desire in his face, but Blake looked coolly resolute, and he mounted.
CHAPTER XI
HARDING GROWS SUSPICIOUS
Benson gave Blake no further trouble, and when they rode up to the camp, apparently on good terms with one another, Harding made no reference to what had occurred. He greeted them pleasantly and soon afterwards they sat down to a meal he had been cooking. When they had finished and lighted their pipes Benson said, "A remark was made the other night which struck me as quite warranted. It was pointed out that I had contributed nothing to the cost of this trip."
"It was very uncivil of Harding to mention it," Blake answered with a grin. "Still, you see, circumstances rather forced him."