“That’s the ticket,” said Pete, nodding, and searching his ragged clothing for a pipe, which he finally drew out and filled. “He’s got money. I’ve spent what I brought up yere to the Panhandle with me. And I b’lieve you made me lose my wagon and that other horse.”
Frances made no rejoinder to this last, but she said:
“Father may be willing to pay something for my release. But you and Ratty will suffer in the end.”
“We’ll risk that,” said the man, puffing at his pipe, and nodding thoughtfully.
“You’d better let me go now,” said the girl, with no display of fear. “And you’d better give up any further attempt to get at the old chest that Mr. Lonergan talked about.”
“Hey!” exclaimed the man, startled. “What d’ye know about Lonergan?”
“He will be at the ranch in a few days, and if there is any more treasure than you found in that old trunk you stole from me, he will get his share and there will no longer be any treasure chest. Make up your mind to that.”
“You know who I am and what I come up yere for?” demanded Pete, eying her malevolently.
“Yes. I know you are the man who tried to steal in over the roof of our house, too. If you make my father any angrier with you than he is now, he will prosecute you all the more sharply when you are arrested.”
“You shut up!” growled Pete. “I ain’t going to be arrested.”