"I wonder if he really meant anything," the girl was thinking in terror,

and he, "she knows something; now, I would like to know what."

Melissy attended to her duties in the postoffice after the arrival of the

stage, and looked after the dining-room as usual, but she was all the time

uneasily aware that Jack Flatray had quietly disappeared. Where had he

gone? And why? She found no answer to that question, but the ranger

dropped in on his bronco in time for supper, imperturbable and

self-contained as ever.

"Think I'll stay all night if you have a room for me," he told her after

he had eaten.

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"We have a room," she said. "What more have you heard about the stage

robbery?"

"Nothing, Miss Lee."

"Oh, I thought maybe you had," she murmured tremulously, for his blue

eyes were unwaveringly upon her and she could not know how much or how

little he might mean.

Later she saw him sitting on the fence, holding genial converse with Jim

Budd. The waiter was flashing a double row of white teeth in deep laughter

at something the deputy had told him. Evidently they were already friends.

When she looked again, a few minutes later, she knew Jack had reached the

point where he was pumping Jim and the latter was disseminating

misinformation. That the negro was stanch enough, she knew, but she was on

the anxious seat lest his sharp-witted inquisitor get what he wanted in

spite of him. After he had finished with Budd the ranger drifted around to

the kitchen in time to intercept Hop Ling casually as he came out after

finishing his evening's work. The girl was satisfied Flatray could not

have any suspicion of the truth. Nevertheless, she wished he would let the

help alone. He might accidentally stumble on something that would set him

on the right track.




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