“Corporal Rand.”
No answer.
“Corporal Rand.”
Still no answer.
“You know me, corporal. This is Dick Kent. Toma is here, too. Look up at me, corporal. Look up! We’re here to help you. Look up!”
Corporal Rand looked up.
“This is Dick Kent,” beseeched that young man. “Don’t you understand—Dick Kent.”
“Of course,” muttered the mounted policeman, and his eyes burned into Dick’s, “I’ll remember that—certainly. Tomorrow, gentlemen, we’ll divide the flour. Two to Bill, two to Thomas, two to me. That’s all there is. You’re welcome, I’m sure. It was my fault entirely.”
Rand paused, mumbling to himself, wholly unaware that a tear had fallen from somewhere above to the thatch of straw-colored hair. His chin dropped forward until it rested on his chest. His eyes closed wearily. For a moment he seemed to doze. But only for a moment—then——
“Provoking, isn’t it?” he made a pathetic attempt at a smile. “I’d begun to fear I’d lost them.”