The following day Bart rode up the lane and within an hour after his arrival he had started upon the construction of the three-room house which he had planned a month or more back. She observed that Bart, notwithstanding the wounded shoulder which still bothered him slightly, went about his work with a purposefulness which had not characterized his activities in the past. A week had passed without his having shown any evidence of restlessness or desire to ride into town. Now that she had Bart safe at home it seemed that her anxiety should have been decreased by more than half but instead it was augmented by each bit of news pertaining to the intensity of the trouble round Oval Springs. Another week passed without the least lessening of Bart’s daily labors. The house was completed with the help of a few grub-liners who were stopping at Carver’s to look after his affairs during his absence. They moved into the new house and Molly’s spirits soared. She sang light-heartedly as she went about her work. She had a permanent home of her own and Bart’s tendency to roam was becoming less pronounced. There was no longer reason to dread the consequences of any possible rambles he might take in the future, since Noll’s influence was now a thing of the past. Her new school would soon open; and besides all these things Molly had made a discovery which eclipsed all the rest. She had told Carver that she did not feel quite up to having a third tumbleweed on her hands to worry about, already having had two, her father and Bart, but she had found herself worrying every minute since his departure; and since it seemed that she was to have the worry in any event, she had as well have her tumbleweed too. She knew that fact now and she wanted to tell him. It was to be expected that Bart would feel the need of relaxation after completing the house and she had decided that when these symptoms became manifest she would suggest Oval Springs as his destination and send a message to Carver. She had thought much over the substance and wording of the message. She would send merely the word that she was worrying over his connection with the marshal’s posse. Carver would divine what lay behind the words and return to the ranch, she reflected; he understood her so thoroughly. Bart, however, failed to fulfill his part in her plans. “You needn’t worry about my prowling off somewheres,” he informed her one morning at breakfast. “I’m one tumbleweed that’s quit roaming. There’s been a windbreak erected on all four sides of me that’ll restrain me from drifting for one solid year. When I make a contract I keep it--even if it only came about through a mistake in the wording.” She pondered over this assertion while Bart finished his breakfast.