The wounded man must have suffered, yet made
no complaint. Indeed he seemed almost cheerful, and so deeply
interested in the strange story in which he had unconsciously borne
part, as to constantly question those riding in front for details.
Westcott and Stella, in spite of the drear, dread monotony of those
miles of sand, the desolate barrenness of which extended about in every
direction, and, at last, weighed heavily upon their spirits, found the
ride anything but tedious. They had so much to be thankful for,
hopeful over: so much to say to each other. She described all that had
occurred during her imprisonment, and he, in turn, told the story of
what himself and Brennan had passed through in the search for her
captors. Cavendish listened eagerly to each recital, lifting his head
to interject a question of interest, and then dropping wearily back
again upon his blankets.
They stopped to lunch at Baxter Springs, and to water the team; and it
was considerably after dark when they finally drove creaking up the
main street of Haskell and stopped in front of the Timmons House to
unload.
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