Joe stood up, sweating, and it was as though a heavy weight was suddenly upon his heart. He felt a little nauseated, and he wet dry lips with his tongue. It seemed, somehow, that he was guilty of a terrible and unforgivable sin. But even while he berated himself, Joe knew pride when Tad appeared where he should have been. The youngster had done his part exactly right. It was no fault of his if the antelope had run exactly wrong. Tad panted up the knoll to join him. "Missed, huh?" Joe said glumly, "I missed." "Oh well," Tad remained cheerful, "they weren't very big anyhow." They wandered back to the wagon. Emma, who had heard the shot, came running expectantly toward them. "Missed," Joe said, and he took refuge in Tad's alibi. "They weren't very big anyhow." "It's nothing," she said, and Joe thought he detected a catch in her voice. "There'll be other opportunities. You come and have your suppers now." She had kept their plates warm near the dying fire, and she gave Tad one. The youngster stood up to eat while Emma brought Joe's plate. He looked down at it, potatoes, biscuits, butter, jerked beef that they had bought in Independence, and a cup of coffee. They were his usual full rations, and he said, "Doggone, I just don't feel hungry. If you'll put this away, it'll be all the lunch I want tomorrow." Tad said, "I ain't hungry neither, Mom." "Now see here!" Emma's voice rose and there was a convulsive sob in it. "Barbara wasn't hungry, Tad isn't hungry, you aren't hungry--! What's the matter with all of you! You've got to eat--you've _got_ to!" Carefully, Joe put the plate and the cup of coffee on the ground. He caught her in his arms and held her very close to him, and she leaned against him, tense and trembling, without making a sound. His arms tightened about her, and he whispered so even Tad couldn't hear, "My darling! Oh my darling!" "I--I'm sorry, Joe." "Emma," his voice was firm, "I know it's hard. But we'll get out, and I swear that to you by everything that's holy to me!" Her eyes seemed like live coals as she looked at him. Miserably Joe said, "Tad, you eat. If you're going to scout up more game you'll have to." Barbara, who had been putting the younger children to bed, jumped from the wagon to stand comfortingly near her mother. Joe said gently, "Your mother and I have some things to talk over, honey." She said uncertainly, "All right." Joe said, "By the way, you take your meals too, Bobby." "I really wasn't hungry." "You'd best take 'em anyhow." He picked up the plate of food and the cup of coffee and led Emma into the shadows away from the fire. Gently he turned to face her. "How much did you eat?" "I--I wasn't hungry."