Mrs. Dan dropped back in her chair. “And the fool I was,” she said despairingly. “Ah, well, you must just wait till she comes back.”
“Back?” said Steve, slowly. “Where from? I can’t wait. I’ve got to get this over, and know the best or the worst that is in it. Where is she?”
Mrs. Dan groaned. “I sent her out. I arranged for her to go if you came, and Dan saddled a horse for her and his own, and had them waiting in the stable; and she slipped out the back way and round, and I heard them ride by before I well spoke to you.”
“I’ll get my horse and go after them,” said Steve, rising hurriedly to his feet. “I’d just as soon say what I have to say outside in the open, and I’ll send Dan home to you.”
“But I don’t know where they’ve gone,” said Mrs. Dan.
“I’ll find that out, and I’ll come back and see you, with her—or alone. I’m still doubtful which, you see.”
“But I’m not,” said Mrs. Dan, as he strode from the door, “though, Heaven above knows, they both seem to mess things up that bad I’d believe anything might happen.”
Steve as he passed glanced at the tracks coming from Dan’s yard, and saw that they turned towards the hotel and bridge, and, when he had got his horse and saddled it, he asked a man standing about if he had seen the trooper and Miss Lincoln.
“Rode past and down over the bridge,” said the man, and Steve cantered off and across the bridge.
The water had dropped so that the road on the far side was uncovered, and Steve saw the tracks clear in the mud, and went off after them at a smart canter.