“Comin’ from th’ mountains,” mumbled Henry. “Funny time o’ night to be hittin’ th’ trail. One critter.” He stepped lightly to the rocks about the spring and flattened himself in the shadows. The thudding continued, and presently, though he could see nothing because of the blackness cast by a cloudy sky, he knew that the animal was close. A single eye of light peered out from the nest of ashes of his waning fire, enough to convince the newcomer, if the horse bore a rider, that some one was camping at the spring. The horse did bear a rider, for no horse, even though he was an exceptional horse and gifted with speech, would have been so peremptory in his demand: “I want to know who’s camping here. Speak out! Who’s here?” “It’s me,” came Henry’s voice from the shadows. “Oh, old Marblehead, eh? Are you dressed?” “Yes’m.” “Then step out here, please, and tell me what’s become of Doctor Shonto!” “You’re Miss Mary Temple, ain’t you?” “No, I’m Miss William Jennings Bryan. Come on out! What’re you hiding there for? Where’s Doctor Shonto? I want to know at once. Talk, you damned quitter!” Henry came forth and stared at the black bulk that she made in the night. Never before had the mild Henry heard a woman use profanity. He was completely flabbergasted. “I--I didn’t know ye cussed, ma’am,” he found himself saying. “What you don’t know about me,” snapped Mary, “would give you a college education if you could find it out. I curse when I’m mad, like anybody else does who’s got any gumption. I’m a bad woman, Henry Richkirk--and don’t you forget it!” “I’m plumb s’prised, ma’am,” he puzzled. “You don’t cuss when Mis’ Reemy’s about, do ye?” “I don’t,” barked Mary. “But that’s no sign I can’t. And when I swear I’m mad. Now poke up that fire and tell me what’s become of Doctor Shonto!” “I ain’t seen ’im at all, ma’am,” said Henry, stirring the embers and heaping on kindling and stony yucca. “Don’t lie to me!” “Honest!” “What are you doing here?” “I been to town to git me a new rain gauge, ma’am. It didn’t come right soon, and I--I waited.” “What town?” “To Emerald, ma’am--that’s sixty miles from Diamond H. And I had to camp here to-night ’cause I was all wore out. I got drunk at Emerald, ma’am, and I’m plumb tuckered. But I oughta be in the mountains. Is it rainin’ or snowin’ up there?” “It is. Above Mosquito.” Mary was dismounting stiffly. “And Doctor Shonto was due to pass Mosquito two days ago. I ought to be in bed, but I rode out to see what had happened to him. I couldn’t find anybody at your place when I got there at dusk, so I rode on down. Now I want to know what’s become of Doctor Shonto.” “I can’t tell ye, ma’am--honest! But I see Omar Leach and Smith Morley clost to th’ foot o’ th’ trail when I was ridin’ outa these here mountains here on my way to Diamond H.” “Leach and Morley? What were they doing? What did they want?” “They were askin’ about you folks,” Henry told her. “I don’t know what they want.”