What had come over them? This desperation in Kate, this touch of anxiety in the very horse and the wolf-dog? Vic forgot his own danger while he stared and it seemed to him that the spark of change had come from Barry. There was something in his eyes which Vic found hard to meet.
“The moment you came I knew you brought bad luck with you!” cried Kate. “He brought you in bleeding. He saved you and came in with blood on his hands and I guessed at the end. Oh, I wish you—”
“Kate!” broke in Barry.
She dropped upon one of the stones and buried her face in her hands and Dan paid no more attention to her.
“Hurry up,” he said. “They're across the river.”
And Vic gave up the struggle, for the tears of Kate made him think of Betty Neal and he followed Dan towards the corral. Around them the stallion ran like a hunting dog eager to be off.
Chapter X. One Trail Ends
“You can trust Grey Molly to me, Vic,” said Dan, standing at the head of the gray mare. “I'll keep her as safe as if she was Satan.”
Gregg watched her almost sadly. He had always taken a rather childish pride in her fierceness. She knew him as a dog knows its master and he had always been the only one who could handle her readily in the saddle. But one who knew nothing of horses and their ways could see the entente which had been instantly established between Barry and Grey Molly. When he spoke her ears pricked. When he raised his hand she stretched her nose inquisitively.