“Get it! Get it!” she cried. “If it’s bad for Halfaman. Go on! You c’n tell me later. I c’n wait. Halfaman never held up th’ stage. Him an’ your flunky.”
“My flunky! No—they didn’t. I know it. I just know it! But even if they did——”
“That’s right. Even if they did! The sheriff an’ your brother rode on up the line. You oughta ketch th’ kid. Sheriff was here hours before. Cut dust! I c’n wait.”
The pinto leaped forward again, and horse and rider sped for the Mangan-Hatton camp.
Manzanita became tactful as she rode into the bigger camp, though she slackened the mare’s speed but little. The men had stared at her, and some had yelled as she rode past the work. In camp she found Hunt Mangan at the commissary door.
“I’m looking for Mart, Hunt,” she said lightly. “Has he been here?”
“Why the great speed?”
“Oh, the mare’s been up for a day or two. She feels good. Then I want Mart as quick as I can find him.”
“Why, he was here a few minutes ago, looking for the sheriff. He rode on up the line. Has anything new developed in the man hunt? Mart seemed in a hurry, and rode directly on when he found the sheriff wasn’t here.”
“I—I don’t know,” faltered the girl. “You’ll excuse my abruptness to-day. I want to find Mart. Thanks for your help. Now I’ll hurry on.”