“Well, he is Ramerrez, and he did come to The Polka to rob it,” retorted the Sheriff.
All at once the note of resentment in the Girl’s voice became positive; she flared back at him, though she flushed in spite of herself.
“But he didn’t rob it!”
“That’s what gits me,” fretted Sonora. “He didn’t.”
“I should think it would git you,” snapped back the Girl, both in her look and voice rebuking him for his words.
It was left to Ashby to spring another surprise.
“We’ve got his horse,” he said pointedly.
“An’ I never knowed one o’ these men to separate from his horse,” commented Sonora, still smarting under the Girl’s reprimand.
“Right you are! And now that we’ve got his horse and this storm is on, we’ve got him,” said Rance, triumphantly. “But the last seen of Johnson,” he went on with a hasty movement towards the Girl and eyeing her critically, “he was heading this way. You seen anything of him?”
The Girl struggled hard to appear composed.