“Oh, he's all right, Mrs. Fleetwood.” Blumenthall glanced meaningly at Kent--and Fred De Garmo, sitting to one side of his saddle, looked at Polycarp Jenks and smiled slightly. “We left town ahead of him, and knocked right along.”
Val regarded the group suspiciously. “He's coming, then, is he?”
“Oh, certainly. Glad you're all right, Mrs. Fleetwood. That was an awful fire--it swept the whole country clean between the two rivers, I'm afraid. This wind made it bad.” He was tightening his cinch, and now he unhooked the stirrup from the horn and mounted again. “We'll have to be getting along--don't know, yet, how we came out of it over to the ranch. But our guards ought to have stopped it there.” He looked at Kent. “How did the Wishbone make it?” he inquired.
“I was just going to ask you if you knew,” Kent replied, scowling because he saw Fred looking at Val in what he considered an impertinent manner. “My horse ran off while I was fighting fire here, so I'm afoot. I was waiting for Man to show up.”
“You'll git all of that you want--_he-he!_” Polycarp cut in tactlessly. “Man won't git home t'-night--not unless--”
“Aw, come on.” Fred started along the charred trail which led across the coulee and up the farther side. Blumenthall spoke a last, commonplace sentence or two, just to round off the conversation and make the termination not too abrupt, and they rode away, with Polycarp glancing curiously back, now and then, as though he was tempted to stay and gossip, and yet was anxious to know all that had happened at the Double Diamond.
“What did Polycarp Jenks mean--about Manley not coming to-night?” Val was standing in the doorway, staring after the group of horsemen.
“Nothing, I guess, Polycarp never does mean anything half the time; he just talks to hear his head roar. Man'll come, all right. This bunch happened to beat him out, is all.”
“Oh, do you think so? Mr. Blumenthall acted as if there was something--”
“Well, what can you expect of a man that lives on oatmeal mush and toast and hot water?” Kent demanded aggressively. “And Fred De Garmo is always grinning and winking at somebody; and that other fellow is a Swede and got about as much sense as a prairie dog--and Polycarp is an old granny gossip that nobody ever pays any attention to. Man won't stay in town--hell be too anxious.”