Wallie entered the bedroom with a swaggering manner and closed the door behind him. "Yer stayin' in Red Oak all night, eh?" he asked. "Did you wake me up tuh ask _that_?" snarled Bryant. "What the hell does it look like I'm doin'? It's too hard a trip fer me tuh go back home. I'll go back in the mornin'." "That's not what I came for, Uncle Bryant," said Wallie hastily. "Don't jump me so till I finish." "Wal?" "I found a woman that'll look after the kids." "Humph! I didn't think you could tend to a job as complete as that. When'll she come to the Basin?" "That's just it," replied the fop hesitantly. "I--I tried tuh talk her intuh goin' there, but she wouldn't. She said that she'd look after 'em, if we paid her of course, an' if we brought the kids here tuh live with her." "I knowed it. Well, find someone else! Find someone that'll come tuh the Basin." Wallie shook his head slowly. "I dunno as I can. It ain't easy tuh find a woman around here that'd take good care of the youngsters." While Bryant appeared to ponder this, Wallie went on quickly. "I thought maybe Penelope could come along with 'em fer a few days, till Mrs. Hastings gets sort of acquainted with 'em. Wouldn't that be a good way?" "Maybe so." "Good enough then, Uncle Bryant. I didn't want tuh do nothin' till I'd talked tuh you about it. I won't bother you no more now. I'm sorry tuh disturb you, but I figgered on ridin' back home with the rest of the boys, an' I wanted tuh get yer okey on this Mrs. Hastings so's I could tell Penelope." "You through talkin' now?" Wallie rose. "Reckon so. You'll be comin' back on the buckboard, won't yuh?" "How else could I git home? Didn't I fetch the buckboard?" "That's right, Uncle Bryant, I'm sorry not tuh have thought it out." "Now get the hell outta here an' lemme git some sleep." Still Wallie didn't go. He shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. "There-there's somethin' I wanted tuh say," he fumbled. "I--I don't want yuh tuh git sore about it...." "_Wal?_" "I thought it was a right smart scheme of yores, the way yuh handled Mort." "Mort kilt his wife, didn't he?" "That's right, Uncle Bryant." "I wouldn't let that squirt called Yuma know I turned Mort over tuh the law; he'd figger I done it on account of bein' scairt o' him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowin' Mort was jailed fer murder." Wallie grinned synthetically. His whole manner before Bryant Cavendish was one of cowering subjugation, of fawning in a way that must have been revolting to the hard old man. "Yuh done jest right," he said. "I'd never o' thought of it, Uncle Bryant. Yuh jailed Mort, an' that took care of the legal angles; of course yuh couldn't be expected tuh let him be swung from a rope." Bryant looked up sharply. "No one'll ever know how he busted out. Fact is, he might o' broke outen that jail without no outside help." "He's out?" exclaimed Bryant. Wallie nodded, a look of surprise on his face. "Didn't you know it?"