Brinklow rode at the head of the little procession in order to study the tracks in the muddy road. Young McNab brought up the rear, and was thus able to watch their three companions while they travelled. Wat Parran rode with an unwilling and sullen air. Yet it was evident that under ordinary circumstances he was a cheerful and talkative soul. Bull Bracker’s heavy, wooden face gave nothing away, and the girl seemed entirely apathetic. To McNab she had the look of one who had received so crushing a blow that nothing which might happen to her afterwards made any difference. When she found the policeman’s eyes upon her, her effort to brighten up, to act as if nothing was the matter, was very painful to see. His heart was soft for her.
Wat Parran and his party had only made ten miles that day,
