"He is not!" Hazel cried, with a decided flash of temper. "He's not stiff-necked! He's not a lollop! Oh, Sally dear, don't spoil everything," she begged. "You've been so good to me."
Sally Jane immediately changed her tune. "But why leave here? Why go home?"
"Because I've imposed on you long enough. I'll be safe there—now."
Sally Jane looked long into the eyes of Hazel Walton. "All right," she said shortly. "I'll drive you over myself."
Billy Wingo stretched out his long legs and absent-mindedly hacked the edge of his desk with a pocket knife. "I told her she'd have to come to me and put her arms around my neck and tell me I was right and she was wrong, and now I've got to stick to it, damitall! Bill, you idiot, you always did let your tongue run away with you. Always. And now she won't make it up. Three days now, since I got my job back, and not a word. Not a word. Well, one thing is certain sure, I ain't going to run after her. I ain't, not by a jugful."
"His lips are moving, but he ain't sayin' anything," announced Riley Tyler in a loud, cheerful tone. "Do you think he's going crazy, Shotgun, or is it only the beginnings of droolin' old age?"
"I dunno," said Shotgun. "Better watch him. If he begins to gibber and pull out his hair, he's looney and we'll have to tie him down, I expect. Is your rope strong, Riley?"
"You fellers," Billy remarked with dignity, "make me more tired than a week's work."
So saying, he arose and went to the corner where his saddle and bridle lay. Three minutes later he rode out of Golden Bar.
"He's taken the Hillsville trail," said Riley Tyler, his nose flattened against the window pane. "Where do you suppose he's going?"