O'Dowd and Susannah assisted her daughters, who, with Mrs. Benson and Mrs. McAlpin, were exposing the wet and dilapidated paraphernalia of the camp to the hot rays of the morning sun.
"But we'd have a heap mo' to thank Gahd fo', missus, if He'd her off dat stawm," exclaimed Susannah, with a characteristic "yah! yah! yah!"
At eleven o'clock the order was given to bring in the stock, and prepare to move on, when it was discovered that Scotty was missing.
"We s'posed he was helpin' Mrs. McAlpin's men, as he generally does, to get her things to rights, so we didn't bother our heads about him," said Sawed-off, who was Scotty's partner of the whip and yoke. "I've been doing the most of his share of the work ever since we 've been on the road."
Scotty was nowhere to be found. An organized search was begun at once, and all thought of moving on was abandoned till the Captain should learn his fate. The cattle and horses were turned out on the range for another badly needed half-holiday. Through all the remainder of the day the anxious quest continued. Mrs. McAlpin was as pale as death. Her sombre weeds, worn for no known reason, formed a fitting frame for her pinched and anxious face and bright, abundant hair. Her mother was visibly agitated. Mrs. Ranger lay on her feather bed all through the trying afternoon, her eyes closed and her lips moving as if in prayer.
"Night again, and no Scotty!" exclaimed Captain Ranger, his voice husky with feeling. As no trace of the man had been discovered, the organized search was called off.
"Scotty's death was one of the freaks of the flood," said Hal.
"None of you ever did Scotty justice," exclaimed Mary, as she descended upon the party with a heaped plate of their staple food.
