Billy, as soon as the thing was over, mounted in not quite the best humor and rode away to join his wagons.  He had not ridden to the Double-Crank to hear Flora talk incessantly of Mr. Walland, and repeat many times the assertion that she did not see how, under the circumstances, he could avoid killing the man.  Nor had he gone to watch Mama Joy dimple and frown by turns and give him sidelong glances which made him turn his head quickly away.  He hated to admit to himself how well he understood her.  He did not want to be rude, but he had no desire to flirt with her, and it made him rage inwardly to realize how young and pretty she really was, and how, if it were not for Flora, he might so easily be tempted to meet her at least halfway.  She could not be more than four or five years older than Flora, and in her large, blonde way she was quite as alluring.  Billy wished profanely that she had gone to Klondyke with her husband, or that Bridger had known enough about women to stay at home with a wife as young as she.

He was glad in his heart when came the time to go.  Maybe she would get over her foolishness by the time he came in with the round-up.  At any rate, the combination at the ranch did not tempt him to neglect his business, and he galloped down the trail without so much as looking back to see if Flora would wave—­possibly because he was afraid he might catch the flutter of a handkerchief in fingers other than hers.

It was when the round-up was on its way in that Billy, stopping for an hour in Hardup, met Dill in the post office.

“Why, hello, Dilly!” he cried, really glad to see the tall, lank form come shambling in at the door.  “I didn’t expect to see yuh off your own ranch.  Anybody dead?” It struck him that Dill looked a shade more melancholy than was usual, even for him.

“Why, no, William.  Every one is well—­very well indeed.  I only rode in after the mail and a few other things.  I’m always anxious for my papers and magazines, you know.  If you will wait for half an hour—­you are going home, I take it?”

“That’s where I’m sure headed, and we can ride out together, easy as not.  We’re through for a couple uh weeks or so, and I’m hazing the boys home to bust a few hosses before we strike out again.  I guess I’ll just keep the camp running down by the creek.  Going to be in town long enough for me to play a game uh pool?”

“I was going right out again, but there’s no particular hurry,” said Dill, looking over his letters.  “Were you going to play with some one in particular?”

“No—­just the first gazabo I could rope and lead up to the table,” Billy told him, sliding off the counter where he had been perched.

“I wouldn’t mind a game myself,” Dill observed, in his hesitating way.

In the end, however, they gave up the idea and started for home; because two men were already playing at the only table in Hardup, and they were in no mind to wait indefinitely.