"Dead certain. She was awful cwoss 'cause dad wouldn't let her go wiv 'em this morning. She said she'd meet 'em comin' home." His eye fell on Dick, and he sprang to meet him with a gay little shout. "Oh, Dick! Didn't you meet Merle?"
Over the fair head Dick's eyes met the Scotchwoman's, and there was dread in both.
"How long ago, Bobby?"
"Since Merle went? Oh, ages!" said Bobby airily. "Didn't you see her?"
Dick shook his head.
Mrs. Macleay gripped his shoulder suddenly, pulling him aside.
"Can you go after her?" Her voice was thick. "I can't ride, and there's not a man on the place. Is there a horse in? Mr. Macleod said yours was lame."
"Conqueror's in the stable," Dick said. "Of course I'll go; most likely I'll catch her up before she gets to the timber. Anyhow, she'll never go into the timber by herself, and no black fellow would go near her in the open on Olaf."
"Are you fit to go, child?" The woman wrung her hands. "You look dead beat now. But what am I to do?"
Dick forced a laugh.