Captain Dan Rugley seemed to forget his rheumatism. Excitement is often a strong mental corrective; and with his mind upon the dearest possession of his old age, the ranchman forgot all bodily ills.
Victorino was scarcely out of the compound when the Captain had summoned Ming from the dining-room and San Soo from his pots and pans.
“Put off dinner. Maybe we won’t have any dinner to-night, San Soo,” said the owner of the Bar-T. “We’re in trouble. You and Ming shut the doors when I go out and bar them. Stand watch. Don’t let a soul in unless I come back or Miss Frances appears. Understand, boys?”
“Can do,” declared the bigger Chinaman, with impassive face.
“Me understland Clapen velly well,” said Ming, who wished always to show that he “spoke Melican.”
“All right,” returned Captain Rugley. “Help me with this coat, San. Ming! Bring me my belt and gun. Yes, that’s it. It’s loaded. Plenty of cartridges in that box? So. Now I’m off,” concluded the Captain, and went to the door again to meet Silent Sam Harding, the foreman.
“Read this,” jerked out the ranchman, and thrust the crumpled letter into Sam Harding’s hand.
Without a word the foreman spread open the paper and studied it. In perfectly plain handwriting he read the following astonishing epistle:
“Captain Dan Rugley,
“Bar-T Ranch.
“We’ve got your girl. She will be held prisoner exactly twenty-four hours from time you receive this. Then, if you have not made arrangements to pay our agent $5,000 (five thousand dolls.), something will happen to your girl. We are willing to put our necks in a noose for the five thousand. Come across, and come across quick. No check. Cash does it. You can get cash at branch bank in Jackleg. We will know when you get cash and then you’ll be told who to hand money to and how to find your girl. Remember, we mean business. You try to trail us, or rescue your daughter without paying five thousand and we’ll get square with you by fixing the girl. That’s all at present.”