Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. But one could not count with any confidence upon Capes.
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