he had never expected to see again. He lingered there many moments when he wanted to hurry back to his rangers.
At last he tore himself away from watching Blanco Diablo and returned to the house. It was only to find that he might have spared himself the hurry. Jim and Ladd were lying on the beds that had not held them for so many months. Their slumber seemed as deep and quiet as death. Curiously Belding gazed down upon them. They had removed only boots and chaps. Their clothes were in tatters. Jim appeared little more than skin and bones, a long shape, dark and hard as iron. Ladd's appearance shocked Belding. The ranger looked an old man, blasted, shriveled, starved. Yet his gaunt face, though terrible in its records of tortures, had something fine and noble, even beautiful to Belding, in its strength, its victory.
Thorne and Mercedes had disappeared. The low murmur of voices came from Mrs. Gale's room, and Belding concluded that Dick was still with his family. No doubt he, also, would soon seek rest and sleep. Belding went through the patio and called in at Nell's door. She was there sitting by her window. The flush of happiness had not left her face, but she looked stunned, and a shadow of fear lay dark in her eyes. Belding had intended to talk. He wanted some one to listen to him. The expression in Nell's eyes , however, silenced him. He had forgotten. Nell read his thought in his face, and then she lost all her color and dropped her head. Belding entered, stood beside her with a hand on hers. He tried desperately hard to think of the right thing to say, and realized so long as he tried that he could not speak at all.
'Nell–Dick's back safe and sound,' he said, slowly. 'That's the main thing. I wish you could have seen his eyes when he held you in his arms out there....Of course, Dick's coming knocks out your trip East and changes plans generally. We haven't had the happiest time lately. But now it 'll be different. Dick's as true as a Yaqui. He'll chase that Chase fellow, don't mistake me....Then mother will be home soon. She'll straighten out this–this mystery. And Nell–however it turns out–I know Dick Gale will feel just the same as I feel. Brace up now, girl.'
Belding left the patio and traced thoughtful steps back toward the corrals. He realized the need of his wife. If she had been at home he would not have come so close to killing two men. Nell would never have fallen so low in spirit. Whatever the real truth of the tragedy of his wife's life, it would not make the slightest difference to him. What hurt him was the pain mother and daughter had suffered, were suffering still. Somehow he must put an end to that pain.
He found the Yaqui curled up in a corner of the barn in as deep a sleep as that of the rangers. Looking down at him, Belding felt again the rush of curious thrilling eagerness to learn all that had happened since the dark night when Yaqui had led the white horses away into the desert. Belding curbed his impatience and set to work upon tasks he had long neglected. Presently he was interrupted by Mr. Gale, who came out, beside himself with happiness and excitement. He flung a hundred questions at Belding and never gave him time to answer one, even if that had been possible. Finally, when Mr. Gale lost his breath, Belding got a word in. 'See here, Mr. Gale, you know as much as I know. Dick's back. They're all back–a hard lot, starved, burned, torn to pieces, worked out to the limit I never saw in desert travelers, but they're alive–alive and well, man! Just wait. Just gamble I won't sleep or eat till I hear that story. But they've got to sleep and eat.'
Belding gathered with growing amusement that besides the joy, excitement, anxiety, impatience expressed by Mr. Gale there was something else which Belding took for pride. It pleased him. Looking back, he remembered some of the things Dick had confessed his father thought of him. Belding's sympathy had always been with the boy. But he had learned to like the old man, to find him kind and wise, and to think that perhaps college and business had not brought out the best in Richard Gale. The West had done that, however, as it had for many a wild youngster; and Belding resolved to have a little fun at the expense of Mr. Gale. So he began by making a few remarks that appeared to rob Dick's father of both speech and breath.
'And don't mistake me,' concluded Belding, 'just keep out of earshot when Laddy tells us the story of that desert trip, unless you're hankering to have your hair turn pure white and stand curled on end and freeze that way.'
***
About the middle of the forenoon on the following day the rangers hobbled out of the kitchen to the porch.
'I'm a sick man, I tell you,' Ladd was complaining, 'an' I gotta be fed. Soup! Beef tea! That ain't so much as wind to me. I want about a barrel of bread an' butter, an' a whole platter of mashed potatoes with gravy an' green stuff–all kinds of green stuff–an' a whole big apple pie. Give me everythin' an' anythin' to eat but meat. Shore I never, never want to taste meat again, an' sight of a piece of sheep meat would jest about finish me....Jim, you used to be a human bein' that stood up for Charlie Ladd.'
'Laddy, I'm lined up beside you with both guns,' replied Jim, plaintively. 'Hungry? Say, the smell of breakfast in that kitchen made my mouth water so I near choked to death. I reckon we're gettin' most onhuman treatment.'
'But I'm a sick man,' protested Ladd, 'an' I'm agoin' to fall over in a minute if somebody doesn't feed me. Nell, you used to be fond of me.'
'Oh, Laddy, I am yet,' replied Nell.
'Shore I don't believe it. Any girl with a tender heart just couldn't let a man starve under her eyes...Look at Dick, there. I'll bet he's had something to eat, mebbe potatoes an' gravy, an' pie an'–'
'Laddy, Dick has had no more than I gave you–in deed, not nearly so much.'
'Shore he's had a lot of kisses then, for he hasn't hollered onct about this treatment.'
'Perhaps he has,' said Nell, with a blush; 'and if you think that–they would help you to be reasonable I might– I'll–'
'Well, powerful fond as I am of you, just now kisses 'll have to run second to bread an' butter.'
'Oh, Laddy, what a gallant speech!' laughed Nell. 'I'm sorry, but I've Dad's orders.'
'Laddy,' interrupted Belding, 'you've got to be broke in gradually to eating. Now you know that. You'd be the severest kind of a boss if you had some starved beggars on your hands.'
'But I'm sick–I'm dyin',' howled Ladd.
'You were never sick in your life, and if all the bullet holes I see in you couldn't kill you, why, you never will die.'
'Can I smoke?' queried Ladd, with sudden animation. 'My Gawd, I used to smoke. Shore I've forgot. Nell, if you want to be reinstated in my gallery of angels, just find me a pipe an' tobacco.'
