Malcolm Hornby turned on his heel and strode into the house, ordering Judy to follow him. Judy, with lowered eyes, followed obediently without another word to Grace.
“How strangely that girl acts today, Mr. Bindloss,” wondered Grace as she mounted her mustang and trotted away with the rancher.
“Judy’s all right. The trouble is that old Hornby is wearing her down with his ornery temper until she is ’bout ready to bust out. I hope she doesn’t, because if she does it’ll be a bad day for Pap.”
“Has she no mother?”
“Mother died when she was a kid. That was ’bout the time I lost my wife. But I don’t altogether understand what’s got into Judy. She’s acting mighty queer.”
Grace nodded.
“There’s your man Jim up there,” said Bindloss, pointing to the foothills where the Overland guide was seen working about. At Grace’s suggestion they rode to him. “Find it?” called the rancher as he and Grace approached.
“I thought as I had, but thar’s been so many cattle an’ so many hosses that it’s a lost trail. The fellers say that Stacy war seen here’bouts. If he’s smart he’s left some sort o’ trail, but I’ll be shot if I kin find it.”
“He would not think of that,” answered Grace.
The pair rode on into the valley, both silent and thoughtful, and for the rest of the afternoon watched the work of rounding up. Just before dark Grace joined by Emma rode over to the foothills to see what Jim was accomplishing. He was now nowhere to be seen. Though Emma wanted to ride up farther into the hills, Grace decided that it would not be prudent, for night was coming on.