Len rode away from the OK, intending to go back to the Box S, but changed his mind and rode north to Lobo Wells. He was worried about Larry. Len wanted the boy, and he did not understand just why his son would not come out to the ranch with him. He had seemed so friendly that first day, but had entirely changed his attitude.
Instead of going in on the main street he went straight to the Prentice house. On the porch was a battered old telescope valise and a couple of half-filled gunny-sacks. Minnie answered his knock. She was wearing a rusty black dress, which fitted her like the casing on a sausage, a moth-eaten old feather boa, and on her head, perched high, threatening at any time to lose its balance, was a small black straw hat, decorated with a single eagle feather, pointing straight toward the sky.
“How do,” she said shortly.
“Howdy,” smiled Len. “Where’s the boy?”
Larry came in from the kitchen, a woebegone expression on his face. Len smiled at him, but the boy did not respond.
“I go way,” said Minnie. “Wait for stage now.”
“Where are yuh goin’?” asked Len.
“I go to my people down by Kernwood.”
“Yea-a-ah? Goin’ to stay?”
“Stay long time, I guess.”