The girl pressed the picture to her lips.
“You must give it to me!” she panted. “I will take it to my room! I wish to be alone with it at once! Oh, I thank you!”
Then she hurried from the room, leaving Merry in anything but a pleasant frame of mind.
There was a sound outside the window. Frank got up and went over to the window. Looking out, he saw two horses standing at a little distance from the ranch. A man was holding them, and the faint light of the moon fell on the man’s face.
“Well, I wonder what that means?” speculated Frank. “Those horses are saddled and bridled. Who is going to ride them to-night?”
Then he remembered the two forms he had seen coming out of the mist that lay on the plain, and he wondered if they had not been two horsemen.
Something about the appearance of the man at the heads of the horses seemed familiar. He looked closer.
“About the size and build of Lloyd Fowler,” he muttered. “Looks like Fowler, but of course it is not.”
There was a step on the veranda, and a figure appeared at the open window. Into the room stepped a man.
Frank sprang back, and was face to face with the intruder.