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Come out with it quick!" "It is that my rifle and belt have gone from under the bunk," Blood River Jack answered. "They were taken while I slept. The boy did not come to dinner in the grub-shack. Is it that he eats to-day with his people?" "Good Lord! I don't know! Haven't you seen him, Daddy?" "Not since mebbe it's noine o'clock in th' marnin', an' he wint to th' bunk-house.
One man rode on the seat, driving the team which walked slowly, oddly, reminding Lorraine of a funeral procession. Beside the wagon rode Lone, his head drooped a little in the starlight. It was not until the team stopped before the bunk-house that Lorraine knew what it was that gave her that strange, creepy feeling of disaster.
As for the wickiup itself, it was well-enough built, but lacking in windows and quite unfinished as to the interior. I told Dinky-Dunk I wanted two new window-frames, beaverboard for inside lining, and two gallons of paint. I have also demanded a lean-to, to serve as an extra bedroom and nursery, and a brand-new bunk-house for the hired "hands" when they happen to come along.
The bunk-house door opened, and Sorry came out on the doorstep, stood there a minute and came slowly to meet her as she retraced her steps to the house. "Where'd Lone go so sudden?" he asked, when she came close to him in the dusk. "That was him, wasn't it?" Lorraine stopped and stood looking at him without speaking. A vague terror had seized her.
Then I rolled my bed one morning, caught out two horses from my string instead of one, told the wagon-boss I was going back to the ranch, and lit out with the whole bunch grinning after me. As they would have said, they were all "dead next," but were good enough not to say so. Or, perhaps, they remembered the boxing-lessons I had given them in the bunk-house a year or more ago.
Was it possible that somewhere within that four square miles of desolate wilderness might lie the key to the puzzling mystery Buck had set himself to solve? "I wonder?" he murmured again, and leaving the margin of the creek, he moved slowly toward the open bunk-house door. As Buck appeared in the doorway, blinking a little at the lamp-light, the five card-players stared at him in astonishment.
As the early darkness of the North country settled about them the men plowed heavily to the bunk-house through a foot and a half of fresh-fallen snow and still it snowed. In a long-abandoned shack midway between Moncrossen's Blood River camp and Hilarity, Bill Carmody hugged close the rusty, broken stove.
When she's got a grouch on she's some cat, believe me!" For some reason the subject appeared to be distasteful to Jessup, and Buck asked no more questions. Instead of following the others into the bunk-house they strolled on along the bank of the creek, which was lined with fair-sized cottonwoods. The sun had set, but the glow of it still lingered in the west.
'Course, when I got my wind, I knowed it was a joke. I reckon I ought to kill somebody " "A lion, Bill? Hev you been drinkin'?" "Drinkin'! Why, Ma, I ain't had a drop sence " "I reckon I better go see what's in that bunk-house," said Mrs. Bailey, rising. "I'll get you that stickin'-plaster when I come back." Mrs.
Dick could see that he had something clasped tightly under the wrappings. "Say, that he-hen she laid twice in the same place!" Mose announced confidentially. "Got 'em both for m'mince pies!" He waggled his head, winked twice with his left eye, and went back to the bunk-house. Still Ford did not appear.
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