“Manley didn't come?” Val was standing beside the rig, near Kent. Her white-clothed figure was indistinct, and her face obscured in the dark. Her voice was quiet--lifelessly quiet. “Is he sick?” “Well--of course has nerves was all upset--” “Oh! Then he _is_ sick?” “Well--nothing dangerous, but--he wasn't feelin' well, so I thought I'd come out and take you back with me.” “Oh!” “Man was awful worried; you mustn't think he wasn't. He was pretty near crazy, for a while.” “Oh, yes, certainly.” “Get in and ride. And you mustn't worry none about Man, nor feel hurt that he didn't come. He felt so bad--” “I'll walk, thank you; it's only a few steps. And I'm not worried at all. I quite understand.” The team started on slowly, and Mrs. Hawley turned in the seat so that she could continue talking without interruption to the two who walked behind. But it was Kent who answered her at intervals, when she asked a direct question or appeared to be waiting for some comment. Betweenwhiles he was wondering if Val did, after all, understand. She knew so little of the West and its ways, and her faith in Manley was so firm and unquestioning, that he felt sure she was only hurt at what looked very much like an indifference to her welfare. He suspected shrewdly that she was thinking what she would have done in Manley's place, and was trying to reconcile Mrs. Hawley's assurances that Manley was not actually sick or disabled with the blunt fact that he had stayed in town and permitted others to come out to see if she were alive or dead. And Kent had another problem to solve. Should he tell her the truth? He had never ceased to feel, in some measure, responsible for her position. And she was sure to discover the truth before long; not even her innocence and her ignorance of life could shield her from that knowledge. He let a question or two of Arline's go unanswered while he struggled for a decision, but when they reached the house, only one point was dearly settled in his mind. Instead of riding as far as he might, and then walking across the prairie to the Wishbone, he intended to go on to town with them--“to see her through with it.” CHAPTER XI. VAL'S AWAKENING Val stood just inside the door of the hotel parlor and glanced swiftly around at the place of unpleasant memory. “No, I must see Manley before I can tell you whether we shall want to stay or not,” she replied to Arline's insistence that she “go right up to a room” and lie down. “I feel quite well, and you must not bother about me at all. If Mr. Burnett will be good enough to send Manley to me--I must see him first of all.” It was Val in her most unapproachable mood, and Arline subsided before it. “Well, then, I'll go and send word to Man, and see about some supper for us. I feel as if _I_ could eat ten-penny nails!” She went out into the hall, hesitated a moment, and then boldly invaded the “office.”