he edge
of the brush, somewhat lower down than they had been the day before. A
team of mules, drawing a wagon, appeared on the road, and turned toward
the slope. Saddled horses were led down out of the junipers. Jean saw
bodies, evidently of dead men, lifted into the wagon, to be hauled away
toward the village. Seven mounted men, leading four riderless horses,
rode out into the valley and followed the wagon.

"Dad, they've gone," declared Jean. "We had the best of this fight....
If only Guy an' Jacobs had listened!"

The old man nodded moodily. He had aged considerably during these two
trying days. His hair was grayer. Now that the blaze and glow of the
fight had passed he showed a subtle change, a fixed and morbid sadness,
a resignation to a fate he had accepted.

The ordinary routine of ranch life did not return for the Isbels.
Blaisdell returned home to settle matters there, so that he could
devote all his time to this feud. Gaston Isbel sat down to wait for
the members of his clan.

The male members of the family kept guard in turn over the ranch that
night. And another day dawned. It brought word from Blaisdell that
Blue, Fredericks, Gordon, and Colmor were all at his house, on the way
to join the Isbels. This news appeared greatly to rejuvenate Gaston
Isbel. But his enthusiasm did not last long. Impatient and moody by
turns, he paced or moped around the cabin, always looking out,
sometimes toward Blaisdell's ranch, but mostly toward Grass Valley.

It struck Jean as singular that neither Esther Isbel nor Mrs. Jacobs
suggested a reburial of their husbands. The two bereaved women did not
ask for assistance, but repaired to the pasture, and there spent
several hours working over the graves. They raised mounds, which they
sodded, and then placed stones at the heads and feet. Lastly, they
fenced in the graves.

"I reckon I'll hitch up an' drive back home," said Mrs. Jacobs, when
she returned to the cabin. "I've much to do an' plan. Probably I'll
go to my mother's home. She's old an' will be glad to have me."

"If I had any place to go to I'd sure go," declared Esther Isbel,
bitterly.

Gaston Isbel heard this remark. He raised his face from his hands,
evidently both nettled and hurt.

"Esther, shore that's not kind," he said.

The red-haired woman--for she did not appear to be a girl any
more--halted before his chair and gazed down at him, with a terrible
flare of scorn in her gray eyes.