Dora’s eyes were brilliant as they always were under excitement; and when Ralston dismounted she stroked Molly’s nose, saying in a voice which was more natural than it had been for days when addressing him, “It was splendid! She is splendid!” and he glowed, feeling that perhaps he was included a little in her praise.
“You want to watch out now,” said Susie soberly. “Smith’ll never rest till he’s ‘hunks.’”
Ralston thought the Schoolmarm hesitated, as if she were waiting for him to join them, or were going to ask him to do so; but she did not, and, although it was some satisfaction to feel that he had drawn first blood, he felt his despondency returning as soon as Dora and Susie had ridden away.
He walked aimlessly about, waiting for Molly to cool a bit before he let her drink preparatory to starting on his tiresome ride over the range. Both he and the Colonel believed that the thieves would soon grow bolder, and his strongest hope lay in coming upon them at work. He had noted that there were no fresh hides among those which hung on the fence, and he sauntered down to have another look at the old ones. With his foot he turned over something which lay close against a fence-post, half concealed in a sage-brush. Stooping, he unrolled it and shook it out; then he whistled softly. It was a fresh hide with the brand cut out!
Ralston nodded his head in mingled satisfaction and regret. So the thief was working from the MacDonald ranch! Did the Indian woman know, he wondered. Was it possible that Susie was in ignorance? With all his heart, he hoped she was. He walked leisurely to the house and leaned against the jamb of the kitchen door.
“Have the makings, Ling?” He passed his tobacco-sack and paper to the cook.
“Sure!” said Ling jauntily. “I like ’em cigilette.”
And as they smoked fraternally together, they talked of food and its preparation—subjects from which Ling’s thoughts seldom wandered far. When the advantages of soda and sour milk over baking powder were thoroughly exhausted as a topic, Ralston asked casually:
“Who killed your last beef, Ling? It’s hard to beat.”
“Yellow Bird,” he replied. “Him good butcher.”