He ceased and sat looking down. The girl could fancy his solitary meals where he cooked what he had killed and ate it, to lie down under the sky and sleep. Women are denied this fleeing to the desert to be alone with God and their sorrow. She envied him the privilege. She had no heart to repeat to him Creed's statements that he was not a spy. That was all past--wiped out by the parting between her and her lover. "Yes, Uncle Jep," she uttered low, and with bent head she moved dejectedly on toward the house. Here all the boys were sleeping noisily after their vigils of the night before. About three o'clock, or a little after, they had come home to find their father turning in at the gate. With their disappointment fresh upon them they broke through his command of silence, and Wade told him how they and Blatch had planned the ambush, how Blatch had been called away, how they had waited in the hollow for Creed, who had promised to "come and talk to them," how he had never come, but how Arley Kittridge a few minutes ago had ridden up to notify them that Bonbright was gone from Nancy Card's, and that the mule was gone with him. None of the watchers could say what direction he took, except to give earnest assurances that he had not left by any trail leading down the mountain. "He's bound to be over here somewhars," Wade concluded, "and Blatch not havin' got back from Garyville, they two has met somewhars." The old man listened in silence, and when his son had made an end offered neither comment nor reply. He passed over without a word the revelation of the deceit about Blatch's supposed killing. It was as though, weary and foredone, he dismissed the young fellows to the logic of events--to life itself--for response, explanation, or punishment. Judith changed her dress, bathed her pale face, and set about preparing breakfast. And that was a strange meal when she had finally put it on the table and bidden them to it. The sons sat in their places like chidden schoolboys, furtively studying their father's ravaged visage, looking at each other and muttering requests or replies. They were all aware of the ugliness of their several offences. Creed's strange disappearance, Blatch's failure to return, the utter collapse of their errand, these had shaken them terribly. About a third of the way through the meal Jim Cal shuffled in. "Do you mind givin' me some breakfast, Jude?" he asked humbly. "Iley an' the chaps is all sound asleep. I hate to wake 'em, an' I never was no hand to do for myse'f." "Set and welcome," said Judith, mechanically placing a chair for the one who had been most resolute of all that Creed must die. So it was that they were all seated about the board when Blatch Turrentine, without a word, made his appearance in the door. Without moving his head Jephthah turned those sombre eyes of his upon his nephew, and regarded him steadily. The younger man stopped where he was on the threshold. "So ye ain't dead?" inquired his uncle finally.