“Don’t ask me,” Dick replied. “I haven’t been out here long enough to know all the types.”
A pleasant voice said, “That’s a typical desert rat. He digs around and sometimes finds a little gold, but mostly he lives on sand, I reckon.”
Mary recognized the speaker as a clerk in the grocery store. Before she could ask more about the poor unfortunate, someone hailed their informant and he hurried away.
Jerry returned and his face was grave. “I hardly know what to say,” he began. “I don’t want to frighten you girls unnecessarily, but Deputy Sheriff Goode thinks it would be unwise for you to return over that lonely road to Gleeson tonight, or, at least not until the hiding place of the bandits has been discovered.”
“Oh, Jerry!” Mary’s one thought was concern for her father. “I must let Dad know that I am safe and that I may not be home at once. Won’t you please telephone him? You will know best what to say.”
“Yes, I’ll be back in a minute.” They watched him pushing his way toward the one drug store in the town.
Mary turned toward Dick. “Now, what does that mean, do you suppose?”
“I think it merely means that the ‘Dep’ isn’t sure that the robbers did cross into Mexico. He thinks they may be hiding nearer here than that.”
“I thought as much,” Dora commented, “when he was so upset because a cowboy started shooting.”
Jerry was not gone long. “I explained to your mother, Dick. She said Mr. Moore is asleep and that she will not waken him. Her advice is that you girls take a room in the little old hotel here and wait until morning.”