"What!"
"Yep. That's why I'm goin' out. Got to look after Scotty. Swing says he ain't hurt bad, an' Scotty is tougher'n back-leather, but still there'd ought to be a woman there, so I'm elected. No, I can't give yuh no details. Ain't got time. Swing will tell yuh all he knows. Good-bye, an' don't forget what I said 'bout mindin' them three girls, Tom."
She picked up the basin and hastened from the room, leaving the door open. Through the doorway Loudon could see a section of the kitchen and Kate and Dorothy busy at the stove. But the objects in view did not register any impressions on his shocked brain. Scotty shot! A hundred horses stolen! Here was a grim matter indeed, one requiring instant action, and he was laid up with a sprained ankle! Very arbitrary ladies, the three Fates. Heartily, but under his breath, for Dorothy was coming, Loudon cursed his luck.
"Well, invalid," smiled Dorothy, "here's your dinner. Shall I feed you, or perhaps you'd prefer Mrs. Mace or Kate? How about it?"
"I only sprained my ankle," said Loudon, red to the ears.
He was wearing one of the Captain's nightgowns. The middle-aged scrutiny of the mother had not quickened him to the fact that the garment was much too small for him, but under the eyes of the daughter he became burningly self-conscious. The knowledge that Scotty had advised Dorothy to fall in love with him did not lessen the agony of the moment.
"I'll put it on this chair," said tactful Dorothy, partly fathoming the cause of Loudon's distress. "Would you like to see Mr. Tunstall?"
"Shore I would. I didn't know he was here at the house."
"He's camping on the doorstep. I'll send him in. Isn't it awful about Scotty Mackenzie? And all those horses, too. Nothing as bad as this ever happened in Sunset County before."
"It won't happen again. Not right away, yuh can bet on that."