"We were just fixing-up to have a game of poker to-night, Mrs. Cameron," Mick Ross had said.
She sought Davey's eyes. The shadow of his hat was over them. He stood a moment flicking his leggings with the lash of the long whip curled on his arm.
"Right, mother! I'll come along, presently," he said.
She went back to her husband, her heart soothed.
But his face all the way home had filled her with fear.
"Has anything happened to upset you, Donald," she asked.
"Aye, matter enough," he replied.
"What is it?" she ventured.
"You'll hear soon."
He lapsed into silence again.