It was a woman's voice, quavering and friendly. Nettie's hand tightened in a vise about the receiver. Her eyes closed. Pale as death, she leaned against the wall.
"Is that Bar Q? Is that you, Nettie?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Is Mr. Langdon home?"
"No, ma'am."
"Any of the men about?"
"They're all in the fields."
"That's too bad. I'm here at the station. Came down on the noon train. 'Twould take too long for you to harness up and meet me, so I'll go over to the Reserve, and maybe Mr. Barrons will bring me up. Good-by, Nettie. Is everything all right?"
A pause, and then Nettie answered faintly: