“Ain’t got time. A dep’ty says she’s mighty important. Jest scribblin’, anyway. It don’t mean nothin’ to them ner to me. But we’re hot on their trail, and we found where this had been throwed away. And the dep’ty wanted the sheriff to see it ’cause he might dedooce somethin’.”
“Deduce your grandmother! Everybody in the mountains smokes cigarettes, and anybody might write on the back of a book of cigarette papers in an idle moment. Show it to me, muchacho!”
“Can’t, Nita. I gotta beat it. Wonder if this here ole hoss is gonta drink the trough dry!”
“Please don’t say ‘this here old hoss,’ hermano.”
“This here hoss,” Mart corrected himself.
“I’ll allow that to stand if you’ll show me that cover.”
But here Mart’s horse lifted his nose from the water, and the young scout wheeled him.
“Mart!”
“Ain’t got time! The dep’ty told me not to show the ev’dence to anybody but th’ sheriff. See you to-night if——”
Two bounds and Manzanita grasped the mane of the bay, just lifting his front legs to lunge directly into a gallop. As he leaped the girl’s right hand caught Mart’s sleeve, and with an agile spring she landed astride, behind the saddle.