"How do you think Uncle David is?" he asked, unexpectedly.

"Better than he has been in years. Why?"

"Because I'm thinking of taking a little trip. Only ten days," he
added, seeing her face. "You could house-clean my office while I'm
away. You know you've been wanting to."

She dropped the brush, and he stooped to pick it up. That gave her
a moment.

"'Where?" she managed.

"To Dry River, by way of Norada."

"Why should you go back there?" she asked, in a carefully suppressed
voice. "Why don't you go East? You've wanted to go back to Johns
Hopkins for months?"

"On the other hand, why shouldn't I go back to Norada?" he asked,
with an affectation of lightness. Then he put his hand on her
shoulders. "Why shouldn't I go back and clear things up in my own
mind? Why shouldn't I find out, for instance, that I am a free man?"

"You are free."

"I've got to know," he said, almost doggedly. "I can't take a
chance. I believe I am. I believe David, of course. But anyhow
I'd like to see the ranch. I want to see Maggie Donaldson."