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Does the gang down Orrville way need to know who it was they forgot to hand the name of Judas to when he was christened? I don't care a cuss on my own account. It's " But Dug McFarlane broke in upon the bitter raillery. He had no thought for the man or his feelings, just for one moment it seemed to him that some sort of miracle had happened. And his every thought and feeling was absorbed in it.
Was she no longer standing upon that brink? The question flashed through her mind as she remembered an incident until then completely lost in the greater issues. It was the threat of that scrawled note which had been flung in at that very window. She even remembered the sensation of the blow which had awakened her on the night of torture during which she had waited for Jeff's return from Orrville.
He gave her to the full that reassurance of which she stood in need. But for all his sincerity it was as useless as if it had been left unspoken. The letter from Dug McFarlane at Orrville, the recognition of her by the man Sikkem Bruce, had warned Elvine that the sands of her time of happiness were running out. She felt she knew that a gape of despair was already yawning at her feet.
Bud's eyes were sharply scrutinizing. "Sure." Jeff's indifference was obviously assumed. Nan's questioning eyes passed uncertainly from Jeff to her father. There was something between these two she did not understand. Orrville? It was when he had been speaking of Orrville all that intensity of bitterness had been so apparent in Jeff. She received no enlightenment, however.
Bob had ridden hard. He had first ridden into Orrville, and then followed the rancher out here. He was leaning over in the saddle lounging upon the horn of it. His eyes were gazing curiously, speculatively at the figure of the man who ruled the local cattle industry. He was calculating in his own way what might be the effect of the news he had to impart.
"What's the play at Orrville?" Bud's question had a suggestion of anxiety in it. Jeff rose from his chair. He passed one hand wearily across his brow and smoothed back his lank fair hair. "Oh, it's just arbitration," he said. "The parties agree to take my decision in some grazing rights instead of handing good dollars over to the law. It's Dug. Dug McFarlane, and a feller called Peters.
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