The reporter, who probably understood human nature far better than the average person, was touched by the girl’s evident misery. He put his hand under Hilda’s arm, and guided her to the door. There he said soothingly:
“Now, don’t worry. Everything’s all right, and you’re in luck. We’re going to take him on the paper. Fine job. He’ll make out great. So, don’t worry. First thing in the morning we’ll be off, and you can depend upon me to do the best I can for him. He’s a darned good pal.”
CHAPTER XXVII
Hilda awoke with a sob. She sat up in bed, pressing her hands to her eyes. Slowly, painfully, she recalled the events of the previous night.
She had called him a cheat—a coward! She had said that she never wished to see his face again! She had driven him from O Bar O. He had gone out of her life now forever.
Hilda could see the dim light of the approaching dawn already tinting the wide eastern sky. It was a chill, raw morning. He would walk out from O Bar O, with his old, battered grip in his hand and that gray suit that had so edified the ranch hands. Her breast rose and swelled. The tears of the previous night threatened to overwhelm her again. Hilda had literally cried practically all of the night, and her hour’s sleep had come only through sheer exhaustion.
The unhappy girl crept out of bed and knelt by the window, peering out in the first grey gloom of the Autumn morning, toward the bunkhouse. She fancied she saw something moving in that direction, but the light was dim, and she could not be sure.
It was cold and damp as she knelt on the floor. No matter. He would be cold and chilled, too, and she had driven him from O Bar O!
A light gleamed now in the dusk over at the saddle rooms. A glance at her watch showed it was not yet six o’clock. He would make an early start, probably leaving before the men started off on the round-up—they were to leave for the range at seven that morning.
Without quite realizing what she was doing, Hilda dressed swiftly. The cold water on her tear-blistered face soothed and cooled it. She wrapped a cape about herself, put on a knitted tam.