“But, Pa!” from Manzanita.
“I told you once to go to your room, didn’t I? I meant it. Ye ain’t gonta stick up fer this fella after what I’ve jest told ye, are ye? Don’t be a fool, Nita! I’ll fergive the rest ’o yer silliness with this flunky.”
“You’re all wrong, wrong, wrong!” she cried with a sob in her voice.
Canby shrugged and jerked his head toward the door.
“But—but if he’s guilty, of course—of course——” she faltered, her eyes fixed on The Falcon.
“O’ course he’s guilty. That’s the way to talk! Now go. I’ll ’tend to the rest.”
With her ear to the keyhole of her door, Manzanita stooped, her heart thumping throbbingly. Sounds came dully from the distant kitchen, then she heard the closing of the outside door.
She hurried to her window and listened, and presently heard her father ride from the corral on his big black saddle.
This was her signal to spring into rapid action, and a moment later she ran into the kitchen. It was empty of human occupancy. She jumped to the pantry door and twisted the knob.