It was a week later,
the night preceding her departure from the hills, long after the girl
had ceased to think of him at all in connection with the incident,
before she learned how much he really knew.
Miss Sarah had found her brother most uncommunicative upon his return
from Thirty-Mile. In response to her first question concerning Steve
he had assured her, lifelessly, that the latter was looking very well
indeed, and let it go at that. Because she was a very remarkable
woman, Miss Sarah had been able to curb her curiosity for several days,
but on that particular evening she found it impossible calmly to wait
longer.
"You have not told me yet, Cal," she reproached him at dinner, in her
slightly lisping voice, "how much progress Steve seems to have made.
You know how interested I am, and you must realize how undignified a
thirty-mile dash on horseback would be on my part, in order to find
out, myself."
While up-river Caleb had found much time in which to talk with Garry
Devereau--that is to say, quite a little time, in view of the fact that
Miriam Burrell, in boots and mackinaw, had insisted upon following
Garry wherever he went. And since his return to Morrison he had been
spending a surprisingly large share of his days in conference with
Hardwick Elliott and his partner, Ainnesley. Now his reply to his
sister's query was startlingly fervid.
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