"Nettie, you're forgetting your—baby!" she said.
Nettie turned sharply round and the bundle fell from her hand.
"No, no, Angel, I've not forgotten him; but you'll be good to him, won't you? and he'll never miss me."
"Nettie Day, don't dare talk like that," said Angella savagely. "I won't let you go if you have any thought like that in your head."
But Nettie did not hear her. For the first time since her baby's birth she was holding it in her arms, and the feel of the little warm face against her own brought a pang to her heart that was both agony and joy. Motherhood seemed to have come to her in a sudden rush of feeling, and her face was as white as death when she at last gave her child back solemnly to Angel. The movement awakened the baby, and now its cry was more than she could bear. She clasped her hands over her ears, and rushed to the gate. Dr. McDermott picked up her bundle and followed.
CHAPTER XXVI
Of the thirty or forty men previously employed at the Bar Q, only two remained that winter—a Chinaman and Batt Leeson at the Bull Camp. The foothill ranch was completely deserted, and the Bull was left alone to look after his several thousand head of cattle.
When the plague reached the country regions, there was a general exodus from the ranches, for tales were rife of stricken men corralled like cattle in bunkhouses and barns and left to shift for themselves.