Billy Louise pouted her lips at him. She could afford to pout now: Ward was so like himself that she did not worry over him at all. She also felt that she could afford to badger him into telling her some of the things she wanted to know.
"Where did you hang Buck?" she asked naïvely.
"Huh?" Ward's eyes bored into hers with his intent look, trying to read her thoughts.
"Where was it you hanged Buck Olney?"
"Nowhere. I put the fear of the Lord into him, that's all. How did you hear about it?"
"From you." Billy Louise was maddeningly calm. "You told me all about it yesterday. And about those cattle in the corral up here. I found them yesterday myself, Ward--only it seems a month ago!--down in the Cove."
"Did you?"
"Yes, and I drove them up to the corral and read the riot act to Marthy and Charlie Fox--"
"Huh! What did they say?"
"Oh, they denied it, of course! What are we going to do about it, Ward?"
"Nothing, I guess. What did you want to do?"
"I don't know. I don't want to hurt them, and I don't want them to hurt anyone else. Do you know Seabeck? He's an awfully square old fellow. I believe--" An idea formed vaguely in the back of Billy Louise's mind. "I believe I could persuade him--"
"I believe you could persuade the devil himself, if you took a notion to try," Ward affirmed sincerely, when she hesitated. "What do you want to persuade him into?"
"Oh, nothing, I guess! How do you feel, Ward? We've got to stick to the job of getting you fit to leave here and go on down to the ranch with me. When do you think you could manage to ride?"
Ward looked longingly out of the window, just as he had been looking for six weeks. "I think I could manage it now," he said doggedly, because of his great longing. "I set my own leg--"
"Yes, and I'm willing to admit you're a wonder, and have gotten the stoics beaten at their own game. Still, there's a limit to what the human body will stand. I'm going down to tend the horses, and if you think you can walk without hurting your leg, I'll hunt some forked sticks for crutches. We'll see how you make out with them, first, before we talk about riding twenty miles on horseback. Besides, you'd catch more cold if you went out to-day."
While she talked, her plans took definite shape in the back of her mind. She took Buck Olney's knife that was lying on the window-sill and went in search of crutches among the willows along the creek. Forked sticks were plentiful enough, but it was not so easy to find two that would support even so skinny a man as Ward. She compromised by cutting four that seemed suitable and binding them together in couples.