“In that case—can’t you see?”
“Of course I can. The man who found the message might be selfish enough to think nothing of justice or our predicament, and would keep his discovery to himself and try to lure us out so that he—and a few pals maybe—could nab us and claim the reward. Even though we might be able to prove your innocence, and to show that eventually we would have come out anyway, pa would be in duty bound to pay what he’d offered. He’d do it, too. Oh, I never thought of such a situation! That’s just it. Somebody’s signaling unbeknown to pa and the rest, in at dinner.”
“Still no Mart, eh?”
“No sign of him. And there the signal goes down.”
Fully two minutes passed before she spoke again.
“There go two men away from Squawtooth over the desert,” she finally reported. “I’ll bet they set that signal, though I can’t make sure. Barns and things were in the way. Ed’s nearing Squawtooth, walking his cream.”
A little later: “Ed has reached the house and turned his horse into a corral.”
Then: “The two who left the ranch in the other direction are running toward a couple of horses, some distance from Squawtooth. I saw the horses there, but thought they were loose and cropping bunch grass. Now I see they’re saddled.
“They’re on ’em! Galloping like the dickens toward the buttes! Here come Ed and pa and—yes, I think it’s the sheriff. They’re in the corrals looking around. Seems almost as if they were looking up into the cottonwood. I’ve got it! You were right! Ed saw the signal, and asked what it meant when he got there. And pa and the sheriff couldn’t answer him, and have gone out to investigate. There go those two men, galloping like mad! That’s funny! If they meant to get us when we came out, why are they running directly away?
“There goes Pa Squawtooth and the rest of them back to the house. Now they’ve gone out of sight around the house. Oh, dear! And the grub’s almost gone! And that jack was the grandfather of all the rabbits in these mountains! Oh, I could just baw-awl!”