They went back to the dining-room, leaving Nan to stare out at the hills, wondering what would happen next. She knew that Baggs would watch for her to leave Lobo Wells, and when she did not appear at the station he would have her arrested.
Several times Whispering came out to the porch, anxious to prepare a meal for her, but she had no appetite. Her eyes ached from watching the road to Lobo Wells, and when she did see a cloud of dust, presaging the approach of a rider, she clenched her hands and swore she would be game, while cold chills raced up and down her spine.
She recognised Len at a distance, but the other rider was not familiar, until they came in through the big gate, when she recognised the huge figure of Ben Dillon, the sheriff. She gripped the arms of her chair and watched them ride up to her and dismount. The sheriff was coming for her, she knew. Len’s face seemed very grave, as he said:
“Ben, you’ve met Miss Singer, ain’t yuh?”
“Howdy,” said the sheriff. “I ain’t never had the pleasure.”
Nan couldn’t speak. Their faces seemed blurred.
“You remember sendin’ Sailor Jones to town last night?” asked the sheriff.
“Hey!” blurted Len quickly. “She’s fainted, Ben.”
“By God, that’s what she’s done, Len! What do yuh do for⸺”
Len picked her up in his arms and carried her into the house, placing her on the couch.