CHAPTER XXIX
SUSPICIOUS ANSWERS
Beth and Van rode away from the claim just after lunch; she on a borrowed horse. The girl had not slept, but she had rested well and was far more fit for the journey back to town than either she or Van had expected.
He went with her part way only—far enough to put her safely on a trail from which she could not wander. They talked but little as they rode—perhaps because they had so much to say that could not be approached. Never for a moment did Van relax his vigilance upon himself, or treat her otherwise than as a man for whom he had conceived a natural liking.
When they came to the place of parting he pulled up his broncho and faced about in the trail.
"Well, Kent," he said, "so long. You'll have no trouble now." He held forth his hand.
Beth gave him hers—and all her heart. Nevertheless, his clasp was as brief as he would give to one of his sex.
"So long," she answered. "Good luck. I am under many obligations."
"They won't make you very round shouldered," he said. "See you again."
That was their parting. He rode back at once—and Beth continued on her way. She turned three times in her saddle to watch him as he went, but she did not catch him glancing back.