When they had eaten and he had gathered up the few scraps of food and had very carefully extinguished the last ember of their fire, he wound the chain about his middle again, caught up the rifle and said briefly and still without looking at her: "Come." She followed him, neither hesitating nor questioning; thus she was gleefully sure she angered him.... She wondered what the day held in store for her; she wondered what of good and bad lay ahead; and yet she was now less filled with terror than with the burning zest for life itself. Bruce Standing had told her that he was going to keep an appointment; he had been the man to release Mexicali Joe; Mexicali Joe had whispered something and Standing had laughed; Mexicali Joe was now ahead of them, pretending to lead Taggart and Gallup and Cliff Shipton to his gold! Her thoughts were busy enough and she, like her silent companion, had small need for talk. She wondered about Babe Deveril; how badly hurt he had been after Bruce Standing's mauling; what he was doing now; where he was? A hundred times that morning, hearing bird or squirrel and once a leaping buck, she looked to see Babe Deveril bursting back upon them.... Had he not gone far, last night? Had he remained near their camp and was he following them to-day?... They passed over a ridge and turned into a little cup of a green valley; Standing, stalking ahead of her, went to a thicket and drew from it a saddle and bridle and saddle blankets and a small canvas pack. Then, standing with his hands on his hips, staring off in all directions, he whistled shrilly. Whistled, and waited listening, and whistled again. Lynette heard, from far off, the quick, glad _whicker_ of a horse. And here came the horse galloping; kicking up its heels; shaking its head with flying mane; circling, snorting, with lowered head; at standstill for a moment, a golden sorrel with snow-white mane and tail; a mount for even Timber-Wolf, lover of horses, to be proud to own and ride and whistle to through the forest land.... Lynette looked swiftly at Standing's face; he was smiling; his eyes were bright. He went forward and stroked his horse's satiny nose and wreathed a hand in the mane and led the animal to the saddle, calling him softly, "Good old Daylight." The horse nosed him; Standing laughed out loud and smote the great shoulder with open palm.... Lynette saw with clear vision that there was a great love between man and animal; and she thought of another horse, Sunlight, slaughtered at Young Gallup's orders, and of Standing's lisping rage and of her own nervous, uncontrollable laughter.... There came a deep, ugly growling--a throaty, wolfish menace, almost at her heels. She whirled about and cried out in sudden startled fright. "Lie down Thor!" Standing shouted sternly. "Down, sir!"