had been shown his determination to hold his own there, they would not be likely to risk an assault by night, in which all the advantage would be his. Hewitt had not been along with them; it was likely they were waiting for him to come, or at least instructions from him, before making another move.
So concluding, he saddled Graball and rode to the ranch, hoping, as he went along, to find Tippie there. Tippie could return with him; they could take an early start and have the sheep outside the fence by sunrise.
Edith was at the gate, a saddled horse standing by. The house was dark and silent. As Rawlins rode up and dismounted, Edith flung the gate open eagerly, greeting him in the exuberance of relief.
"I was about to start over there and see if I could find out anything," she said. "I didn't get to go up to the hill to-day. I was worried about you, Ned."
"It's been as quiet as Sunday up there to-day, Edith. I'm beginning to think they're going to let me alone."
The little paring of moon was very bright, cheering the whole sector of the sky where it seemed to hang not much more than the height of a man above the hills. Rawlins could see the anxiety of her face as she shook her head slowly in denial.
"You know they're not going to," she said. Then quickly, as if her words had been waiting: "Give it up, Ned, give it up! It isn't worth another fight, it isn't worth what you've gone through already. Let them have it—give it up!"
"No, I'm not going to give it up," he replied with argumentative briskness. "I did think of doing it, as you know to my disgrace and"
