Venters retraced his steps along the terrace back to camp, and found Bess in the old familiar seat, waiting and watching for his return.
“I went off by myself to think a little,” he explained.
“You never looked that way before. What—what is it? Won’t you tell me?”
“Well, Bess, the fact is I’ve been dreaming a lot. This valley makes a fellow dream. So I forced myself to think. We can’t live this way much longer. Soon I’ll simply have to go to Cottonwoods. We need a whole pack train of supplies. I can get—”
“Can you go safely?” she interrupted.
“Why, I’m sure of it. I’ll ride through the Pass at night. I haven’t any fear that Wrangle isn’t where I left him. And once on him—Bess, just wait till you see that horse!”
“Oh, I want to see him—to ride him. But—but, Bern, this is what troubles me,” she said. “Will—will you come back?”
“Give me four days. If I’m not back in four days you’ll know I’m dead. For that only shall keep me.”
“Oh!”
“Bess, I’ll come back. There’s danger—I wouldn’t lie to you—but I can take care of myself.”