“Dad!” she cried.

“That’ll do from you,” he replied, in a voice he had never used to her.  “Get breakfast now, then pack to leave Forlorn River.”

“Leave Forlorn River!” whispered Nell, with a thin white hand stealing up to her breast.  How changed the girl was!  Belding reproached himself for his hardness, but did not speak his thought aloud.  Nell was fading here, just as Mercedes had faded before the coming of Thorne.

Nell turned away to the west window and looked out across the desert toward the dim blue peaks in the distance.  Belding watched her; likewise the Gales; and no one spoke.  There ensued a long silence.  Belding felt a lump rise in his throat.  Nell laid her arm against the window frame, but gradually it dropped, and she was leaning with her face against the wood.  A low sob broke from her.  Elsie Gale went to her, embraced her, took the drooping head on her shoulder.

“We’ve come to be such friends,” she said.  “I believe it’ll be good for you to visit me in the city.  Here—­all day you look out across that awful lonely desert....Come, Nell.”

Heavy steps sounded outside on the flagstones, then the door rattled under a strong knock.  Belding opened it.  The Chases, father and son, stood beyond the threshold.

“Good morning, Belding,” said the elder Chase.  “We were routed out early by that big blast and came up to see what was wrong.  All a blunder.  The Greaser foreman was drunk yesterday, and his ignorant men made a mistake.  Sorry if the blast bothered you.”

“Chase, I reckon that’s the first of your blasts I was ever glad to hear,” replied Belding, in a way that made Chase look blank.

“So?  Well, I’m glad you’re glad,” he went on, evidently puzzled.  “I was a little worried—­you’ve always been so touchy—­we never could get together.  I hurried over, fearing maybe you might think the blast—­you see, Belding—­”

“I see this, Mr. Ben Chase,” interrupted Belding, in curt and ringing voice.  “That blast was a mistake, the biggest you ever made in your life.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Chase.

“You’ll have to excuse me for a while, unless you’re dead set on having it out right now.  Mr. Gale and his family are leaving, and my daughter is going with them.  I’d rather you’d wait a little.”

“Nell going away!” exclaimed Radford Chase.  He reminded Belding of an overgrown boy in disappointment.

“Yes.  But—­Miss Burton to you, young man—­”

“Mr. Belding, I certainly would prefer a conference with you right now,” interposed the elder Chase, cutting short Belding’s strange speech.  “There are other matters—­important matters to discuss.  They’ve got to be settled.  May we step in, sir?”

“No, you may not,” replied Belding, bluntly.  “I’m sure particular who I invite into my house.  But I’ll go with you.”

Belding stepped out and closed the door.  “Come away from the house so the women won’t hear the—­the talk.”