“Oh, Charley!” reproached Virginia, “didn’t you know better than that? You only said it when you had those spells. Why didn’t you tell me when you were feeling all right–and you denied it, I know, repeatedly!”
“The Colonel would kill me,” mumbled Charley sullenly. “He told me not to tell. But I brought you the whiskey, sir; a whole big─”
“Never mind the whiskey,” said the Colonel sharply. “Now, let’s get to the bottom of this matter. Why should you think I was dead when I had merely absented myself─”
“But the body!” clamored Virginia. “We got word you were lost when your burro came in at the Borax works. And when we hired trackers, the Indians said you were lost–and your body was out in the sand-hills!”
“It was that cursed camp-robber!” declared the Colonel with conviction. “Well, I’m glad he’s gone to his reward. It was only some rascal that came through here and stole my riding burro–did they 283care for old Jack at the Works? Well, I shall thank them for it kindly; and anything I can do–but what’s the matter, Virginia?”
She had drawn away from him and was gazing about anxiously and Charley had slunk guiltily away.
“Why–where’s Wiley?” she cried, clutching her father by the arm. “Oh, isn’t he here, after all?”
“Wiley?” repeated the Colonel. “Why, who are you talking about? I never even heard of such a man.”
“Oh, he’s dead then; he’s lost!” she sobbed, sinking down on the ground in despair. “Oh, I knew it, all the time! But that old Charley─” She cast a hateful glance at him and the Colonel beckoned sternly.
“What now?” he demanded as Charley sidled near. “Who is this Mr. Wiley?”