Some time afterward, as he lighted his candle to go to his room and kissed her good night, he reassured her gently. “I jest git so disapp’inted with myse’f, dearie. Yore poor ma an’ me used to plan so many big things for our leetle gal. I’ve wanted to do so much for you an’ I ain’t done nuthin’. Anyway, Dot, we’ll ferget all about this here Billy Gee. It ain’t worth quarrelin’ over, it ain’t worth it, hon.”
Dot lingered in the kitchen until she was sure he had gone to bed. Then she began hurried preparations to spirit her outlaw patient out of the house. Filling a bottle with hot coffee, she threw some bread and meat into a paper bag. After this she tiptoed to her room, stealthily unlocked the door, closed it behind her, and lit the candle on the bureau.
One glance, and she saw that her bed was empty, the window open. Billy Gee was gone; so were his saddlebags!
For an instant she stood perplexed. But she breathed easier, vastly relieved that he had thus chosen to steal out of the house without her aid. Stepping over to the window she flashed the candle outside and listened into the quiet night. There was no sign of him, no sound. He must have found his way into the hayloft, she told herself, recalling the fact that she had described the location of his new hiding place to him that afternoon. But from reflecting on his weak condition she became more and more concerned about him, resolving finally to investigate his whereabouts and take him the food.
It was only a matter of four feet from the window sill to the ground, and a far safer means of exit from the house at this late hour, particularly after her father’s furious outburst, so unexpected and ominous. She put out the light and let herself down noiselessly into the strip of garden outside, and flitted off like a shadow for the barn. With a subdued little cough to herald her coming to the fugitive, she climbed the short flight of steps to the loft and struck a match.
He was there, standing knee-deep in the loose hay, spectral, sinister, a six-shooter glinting in his hand. At sight of her, he lowered the weapon and clutched a tie beam for support. Ere the match went out, she reached his side.
“I was leary it’d go hard on you if he ketched me in there, so I sneaked out,” he explained in low tones. “I heerd it all an’ I’m sorry I got you in so much trouble. I’m goin’ to resk it, to-night.”
“No, no! You mustn’t,” she whispered quickly. “The plains are alive with posses. You’d never escape.”
He chuckled softly. “Wunst I git a-goin’, I’ll be orright. The moon’s comin’ up, an’ I got folks livin’ handy.”
“Here’s something for you to eat. You must be terribly hungry—weak.” She thrust the bottle and the paper bag into his hand as she spoke. “I’d counted on you staying till you were stronger—three days, anyway. You’d be perfectly safe here. I’d see that you were. Why don’t you?”