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Then, abruptly, her slim, girlish figure grew limp, her head fell back against Stratton's shoulder, her eyes closed. Mrs. Archer sat alone in the ranch-house living-room, doing absolutely nothing. As a matter of fact, she had little use for those minor solaces of knitting or crocheting which soothe the waking hours of so many elderly women.
As their glances met, the Mexican's lids drooped and his face smoothed swiftly into its usual indolent indifference; but he was not quite quick enough to hide entirely that first look of searching speculation mingled with not a little venom. Stratton's own expression was the perfection of studied self-control. He half smiled, and yawned in a realistically bored manner.
Her son Thomas speaks of her as having read Stratton's book on the priesthood, and inferring from its implications the sect to which the author belonged. The oldest of her children was only nineteen when Angelina was born. The burdens laid upon her were many and great; and we cannot wonder that she was nervous, exhausted, and irritable.
"Being the least agitated member of the group, I boldly called 'hello, and was asked by a masculine voice if Mrs. Stratton's little daughter didn't have blue eyes and brown hair and if she wore a white dress with blue "It was not necessary to finish the description.
Already the man's arm was lifted, and though Stratton's hand jerked automatically to his gun, he was too late. An instant later something struck his head with crushing force and crumpled him to the ground. When Buck began to struggle out of that black, bottomless abyss of complete oblivion, he thought at first as soon as he could think at all that he was lying in his bunk back at the Shoe-Bar.
At any rate, she didn't, and he took the weapon away from her and flung it on the table." Again she hesitated briefly, overcome by her emotions. Stratton's face was stony, save for a momentary ripple of the muscles about his mouth. "And then?" he questioned. "I I tried to go to her, but Pedro held me in the chair." Mrs. Archer drew a long, quivering breath.
But as he walked slowly back to where he had left his horse, Stratton's face grew thoughtful. He was trying to analyze the motives which had prompted him to accept such a position and found them a trifle mixed. Undeniably the girl's unexpected personality influenced him considerably. She did not strike him, even remotely, as the sort who would deliberately do anything dishonest.
Pop Daggett's jaw sagged, betraying a cavernous expanse of sparsely-toothed gums. "Joe Bloss!" he ejaculated. "My land! I hope you ain't traveled far fur that. If so, yuh sure got yore trouble for yore pains. Why, man alive! Joe Bloss ain't been nigh the Shoe-Bar for close on to a year." Stratton's eyes narrowed. "A year?" he repeated curtly. "Where's he gone?" "You got me.
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