"Not quite everything," said Sheridan. The words slipped out. He had not meant to express himself. Mary Burrows had greeted him cordially enough but there was a certain air of constraint about her that Thora shared. Red had sensed it and looked at Sheridan in puzzled fashion more than once.
It had first shown itself after the thanks about the gate, which the girls had only noticed that morning.
"As long as we are going to stay here, it will make us—me at least—feel more secure," said Mary. "When the steed is stolen—and recovered—it is as well to put a lock on the door, I suppose." Sheridan had not noticed any especial emphasis in her wording. He had been too full of his news, anxious to see how she would respond to the promise it held for his project. Now the speech recurred to him with a new meaning.
"You said, 'as long as we are going to stay here,'" he said. "Are you getting tired of the Hidden Homestead and the West?"
"It is not that," she answered eagerly. "I am not tired. I feel at home here now. Just at first the mountains seemed to shrug their shoulders at me but now they are friendly."
He thought her still jarred from her experience with Hollister. He could not judge of the effect that might have upon her sensitiveness. It had been a horrible experience, borne by her so bravely that he had treated it too lightly, as one that would pass like the shadow of a cloud. And he did not want to
