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Stone's companions under instructions had left him and returned to Doubleday's before the shot across the Crazy Woman. Stone himself got back to Doubleday's ranch at about the time that Laramie started for Sleepy Cat in the evening. But Barb Doubleday and Van Horn, he was told, were in town. He followed them and discovered Van Horn in the bar room at the hotel.
It was precisely what Bradley had feared would happen, but there was no escape from Doubleday's logic and no help for what others as well as Bradley feared might follow. On the morning the raiders entered the Falling Wall, Laramie had started with Henry Sawdy for the Reservation to appraise some allotted Indian lands.
He seemed to forget that he had frequently accepted Doubleday's hospitality and joined in the festivities of the "usual lot." "I thought you lived at your uncle's?" said I. "Oh, no! My father's rectory is in Lambeth. But we're just going to move into the City. I don't enjoy the prospect, I can assure you! But I say, how are you and your friend Smith getting on now?"
I gladly accepted this delightful invitation, and went back to Mrs Nash's feeling myself a good deal more a "man of the world," and a good deal less of a hero, than I had left it that morning. My evening at Doubleday's lodgings was the first of a course of small dissipations which, however pleasant while they lasted, did not altogether tend to my profit.
On the road in rear, with the batteries between the columns, came the three remaining brigades Gibbon's, Doubleday's, and Patrick's in the order named. The wood in which the Confederates were drawn up was near a mile from the highway, on a commanding ridge, overlooking a broad expanse of open ground, which fell gently in successive undulations to the road.
"But," observed I, "it seems to me you are taking it out of Doubleday's reach and putting it into your own." For an instant a shade of vexation crossed his face, but directly afterwards he laughed again in his usual amused manner. "You forget," said he, "I live at home, and haven't the chance of following Doubleday's example, even if I wished to. In fact, I'm a domestic character."
The idea of writing to him occurred to me more than once, but the thought that he might throw my letter into the fire unread deterred me. No, the only thing was to bear my humiliation and wait for a chance. Doubleday's lecture had wrought a considerable change in my habits.
The barn-boy gets up a horse for me any time." He raised an unexpected difficulty: "I wouldn't feel just right, today, riding a horse of Barb Doubleday's," he said doubtfully. The words only confirmed her suspicions. Her fears rose but her wits did not desert her: "Ride mine," she suggested. "I've got my own horse, of course."
He regarded her with the simplicity of a child, but replied like a case-hardened cowboy: "I don't like a woman's job, of course. But I'm ready to do any blamed thing you say." "Do you suppose," Kate demanded with an air, "they would turn two horses over to you up at Doubleday's?" She had put her foot in it: "I tell you," he protested, "I don't want to ride a horse of Doubleday's.
Find out who tore down your wire?" Laramie replied in even tones but his voice was hard: "I trailed them across the Crazy Woman. It was somebody from Doubleday's ranch." "They had a story at Stormy Gorman's you'd gone over there to blow Barb's head off." "Barb wasn't home." Hawk was conscious of the evasion. "Was Stormy's talk true?" he demanded curtly.
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