"Lytton didn't go that way," he muttered, as he dropped to the ground again. "No use worryin' any more, though; it's time somebody knew he was here; they will soon, an' it won't do any harm." He swept the valley with his gaze again and shook his head. "Seems like it's in shadow all the time now," he muttered, "an' not a cloud in the sky!" When he found a bolt of proper length and fitted it in place the horse and rider were appreciably nearer and he watched them crawl toward him a moment. "I went to th' wagon to get my roll, To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul; I went to th' wagon to draw my roll, Th' boss said I was nine dollars in th' hole! "Coma ti yi, youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, Coma ti--" He turned again to look at the approaching rider before he went into the stable. Then, for twenty minutes he was busy with hammer and saw, humming to himself, thinking of things quite other than the work at which his hands were busy. "Is this the way you greet your visitors?" It was Ann Lytton's voice coming from the stable doorway, and Bayard straightened slowly, turning awkwardly to look at her over his shoulder. She was flushed, flustered, uncertain for the moment just how to comport herself, but he did not notice for he was far off balance himself. "Good-mornin', ma'am," he said, taking off his hat and stepping out from the stall in which he had been working. "What do you want here?" His voice was pitched almost in a tone of rebuke. "I came to see my husband," she answered, and for a moment they stared hard at one another, Bayard, as though he did not believe her, and the woman, as if conscious that he questioned the truth of her reply. Also, as if she feared he might read in her the _whole_ truth. "He ought to be back soon," the rancher said, replacing his hat. "He's off for a ride. Won't you come into the house?" They stepped outside. He saw that behind her saddle a bundle was tied. He looked from it to her inquiringly. "I have thought it all over," she said, as if he had challenged her with words, "and I've made up my mind that my place, for the time, anyhow, is with Ned. It's best for me to be here; it's best for Ned to know and have it over with.... Have a complete understanding." He looked away from her, failing to mark the significance of her last words or to see the fresh determination in her face. "It had to come sometime. I expect now's about as likely a day as any," he said, gloomily, and untied the roll from her saddle. "I'll show you around th' house so you'll know where things are,"--and started across toward the shade of the ash tree. Ann walked beside him, wanting to speak, not knowing what to say. She found no words at all, until they gained the kitchen and stood within. Bayard placed her bundle on the table. "Do you mean that you won't be here?" she faltered. "Well, that's th' best way," he said, looking down and rubbing the back of a chair thoughtfully. "I can't...."