“That has nothing to do with the case,” said Lila evenly. “You know I can’t stay here any longer.”
Old Rance turned and looked keenly at her.
“Yuh—uh—yuh can’t stay here?” he faltered.
“Don’t you see how it is?” helplessly. “I don’t belong here. I—I’ll try and pay you back for what I’ve cost you. I don’t know how it can be done, but I’ll try. You’ve been good to me.”
Lila turned abruptly on her heel and went back into the house. The old man sank a little lower on the step, when he heard her tell Chuckwalla she did not want any breakfast. She was talking to the two cowboys, but Rance could not hear what was said.
A few minutes later Monty Adams came out to him. He was industriously picking his teeth and trying to appear at ease. Monty was tow-headed, rather flat-faced, and of medium height.
“Lila asked me to hitch up the buckboard and take her to town,” said Monty. “Is it all right, Rance?”
“Sure.”
Rance cleared his throat harshly, but did not look around. When Monty went back into the house Rance got up and walked down to the stable, where he sat down on an overturned box and looked gloomily at the ranch-house. He watched Monty and Steve hitch up the old backboard, and saw Chuckwalla carry Lila’s trunk out to the ranch-house porch.
There was no good-bye spoken. Lila came down and Steve helped her into the vehicle. She shook hands with Chuckwalla, and drove away with Monty. Steve sauntered down to the bunk-house, followed by a collie pup, which carried a piece of board in its mouth, while Chuckwalla sat down on the porch and rolled a cigarette.