"The doctor will come--Hawkinson, I sent for," she announced
later to Pete, holding out the telegram. She glanced reluctantly
at the wrinkled blanket where Saunders had lain, caught a corner
of her under lip between her teeth, and, bareheaded though she
was, went down the steps and along the trail to the stable.
"I've nearly an hour before I need open the office," she said to
herself, looking at her watch. She did not say what she meant to
do with that hour, but she spent a quarter of it examining the
stable and everything in it. Especially did she search the
loose, sandy soil in its vicinity for tracks.
Finally she lifted her skirts as a woman instinctively does at a
street crossing, and struck off through the sagebrush, her eyes
upon a line of uncertain footsteps as of a drunken man reeling
that way. They were not easy to follow--or they would not have
been if she had not felt certain of the general direction which
they must take. More than once she lost sight of them for
several rods, but she always picked them up farther along.
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