"Well," he said as meaningly as he thought advisable, "I'll do what I can."
On entering the sick room he thought her anxiety was justified. Lance did not look well, although he smiled at his visitor.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "It's a change to see somebody fresh. The boys mean well but they worry me."
"You'd get tired of me if I came oftener," Harding answered with a laugh.
They talked for a few minutes about a sheep dog that had been given to Lance; and then, during a slight pause, the boy closed his eyes with a sigh. Harding looked at him keenly.
"I'm told you're not sleeping well," he said; "and you don't look as fit as you ought. I guess lying on your back gets monotonous."
"Yes," Lance answered listlessly. "Then I'm worried about losing my horse."
"One feels that kind of thing, of course; but it wasn't an animal I'd get attached to. Hard in the mouth, I guess, a bad buck-jumper, and a wicked eye. On the whole, you're better off without him."
"Perhaps you're right, and I meant to sell him. I'd had offers, and the Warrior blood brings a long price."
"Ah! That means you wanted the money?"