CHAPTER XXII
HAIL
A thin crescent moon hung low in the western sky. The prairie was wrapped in silent shadows. Leland stood outside the homestead, with the bridle of an impatient horse in his hand, and talked with his wife. There was only one light in the house behind them, and everything was very still, but Leland knew that two men who could be trusted to keep good watch were wide awake that night. The barrel of a Marlin rifle hung behind his shoulders, glinting fitfully when it caught the light as he moved. Without thinking of what he was doing, he fingered the clip of the sling.
"The moon will be down in half an hour, and it will be quite dark before I cross the ravine near Thorwald's place," he said. "Jim Thorwald is straight, and standing by the law, but none of us are quite sure of all of his boys. Anyway, we don't want anybody to know who's riding to the outpost."
Carrie laid her hand upon his arm. "I suppose you must go, this once at least."
"Of course!" said Leland with a smile. "If I'm wanted, I must go again. The trouble's spreading."
"Then," said Carrie, "why can't they bring more troopers in? Why did you ever have anything to do with it, Charley?"
"It seemed necessary. A man has to hold on to what is his."
Carrie's fingers tightened on his arm. "Perhaps it is so; I suppose it must be; but, after all, I don't think that was your only reason. I mean, when you started the quarrel. No, you needn't turn away. I want you to look at me."
"It's dark, my dear, and I'm glad it is. I don't want to talk of those times, and if it were light enough to see you, I'm afraid it would melt the resolution out of me."
"Still," Carrie persisted, "you know you first quarrelled with the rustlers because you were angry with me."