“I’m sorry, Pat,” Gary murmured, when Monty’s steps could no longer be heard on the rocks. “Can’t you put your face right up to the opening now? Monty knocked quite a chunk of rock off a few minutes ago. And, Pat, if you knew how I wanted to kiss my girl on the lips!”
So Patricia wiped her eyes and put her face to the opening.
It happened to be the sheriff’s car from Tonopah, with three other men deputized to come along and see what was taking place away over here in Johnnywater. In a little while they came puffing up the bluff to look in upon the man who had been trapped underground for considerably more than a week. They were mighty sympathetic and they were deeply concerned and anxious to do something, poor men. But they were not welcome, and it was difficult for the leading man and his lady to register gratitude for their presence.
Gary finally thought of a way out. He told the sheriff that, since there was nothing to be done at present to release him, he would suggest that they investigate the grave under the juniper. He said he thought they might be able to identify the remains of a man which he had buried there.
They took the bait and went trooping down the bluff again to do their full duty. And the last hat-crown had no more than disappeared when Patricia again leaned forward and put her face to the opening, this time without being asked.
There is nothing in the world like love, is there? When it can brighten a situation such as this and turn tragedy into romance—why, then, there’s mighty little more to be said.
THE END