“Then you don’t mind havin’ him here, Nan?”
“Oh, I love it.”
“I wondered if yuh would. Where do yuh want to sit this mornin’? You can’t do much movin’ around, yuh know, and I’d kinda like to ride to town and see if they found Hartley.”
“On the front porch. Don’t hurry on my account, Len.”
“Well, I won’t be gone long.”
He carried her out on the porch and made her comfortable in a rocker, stacking up some old magazines beside her.
“Len,” she said seriously, “you are awful good to me.”
“Mebby I am and mebby I ain’t,” he said brusquely. “See you later.”
Larry came up to see her after a while, his face flushed, clothes dusty.
“Me and the mule got along great,” he told her, with a triumphant note in his voice. “Sailor says I rode him to a frazzle. Sailor’s makin’ over a saddle for me. Well, I’ve got to get back to work, I s’pose.”