Read Following the Grass for Free Online Page B

of his mouth and the ghostly pallor of his face. She stopped short.
    â€œJoseph!” she exclaimed. “What has happened? What is it?”
    Gault pointed to the lamp. “Put it out!” he said sharply, and as Margarida blew out the flame, he locked the door.
    The ashes in the hearth were still aglow. Gault stirred them with his boot until they dimly illumined the room. The supplies for which he had gone to town were in a gunny sack thrown over his shoulder. He took the sack, and put it in the kitchen as he had always done, and coming back to the fireplace, he took several newspapers and a catalogue from his pocket and tossed them on the table.
    Margarida’s eyes followed him. His every move said to her that something serious had happened; but Gault, not seeing that she read him so well, tried to be casual as he spoke.
    â€œHad trouble with the sheep,” he began.
    Margarida stopped him. “They were all right just before the storm, but that’s not why you asked me to put out the lamp, Joseph.” Her tone was accusing. Gault stared at the glowing coals.
    â€œYes—and—no, Rita,” he muttered. “Somebody stampeded the flock. I jest managed to turn ‘em this side of the fence. The fence is down—cut!”
    Margarida Gault’s face blanched. She grabbed her husband’s arms as if she would shake from him the mystery this night held.
    â€œYou mean our sheep ?” she demanded incredulously. “Some one stampeded our sheep and cut the Circle-Z wire so they would go through?—Joseph!” It was a groan. Gault turned his head away.
    â€œDon’t keep me waiting,” Margarida exclaimed when she could speak. “Tell me what happened! Everything!”
    But she had to drag the story from him, for he was still trying to hold back word of Dorr.
    â€œHow could this have happened?” she demanded, when he had finished. “Who could have done this thing?”
    â€œReckon the less we say about that the better hit”ll be. You and me know who done hit, but hit can’t be helped.”
    She caught her breath as understanding flashed in her brain. Trembling, she turned to the fire. “I— I— understand, Joseph,” she murmured brokenly, her voice tired, impotent. “I didn’t think they would stoop to this.”
    Gault winced. How could he tell her what must be told? He couldn’t just go. So it was with a decision born of desperation that he said tersely:
    â€œGuess you remember Kit Dorr, Rita.”
    His wife nodded, surprised at the mention of Dorr’s name at this time.
    â€œOf course. But why? Had he anything to do with this?”
    Gault cleared his throat nervously.
    â€œKit’s dead—killed!”
    â€œAh-h-h!” There was surprise and horror in her eyes. It seemed as if by some psychic force she foresaw the dénouement of the tragedy. Her mouth hung open. It seemed to ask a question.
    â€œI left him half buried in the sand beside the fence,” Gault went on, watching her mouth.
    â€œThe fence?” Margarida’s hand flew to her mouth as she backed away, her eyes bulging. “Joseph— Joseph!” And when Gault’s eyes met hers, she stared at him madly; but he was mute. Slowly, then, a word formed on her lips:
    â€œYou—”
    Gault could not answer at once. He shook his head slowly when he did speak, and his voice was hoarse:
    â€œNo-o, Rita, hit wa’n’t me! I didn’t kill Kit Dorr. Folks is a-goin’ to say I did, though; an’ there ain’t no one a-goin’ to believe I didn’t.”
    â€œOh, Joseph!” Margarida implored as she rushed to him and threw her arms about his neck. “Don’t say that! I have never known you to lie. If you say you did not kill him, I believe you. Look at me, Joseph. I have faith in you!”
    Gault trembled as he swept her up into his arms and kissed her.
    â€œI haven’t done