"That will do."
"I can make it less time than that, if you wish it."
"That suits; it's a go; good-by."
"Good-by," and the visitor turned on his heel and strode across the plateau, disappearing on the further margin, where he had first shown himself.
Hank Hazletine stood looking after him as long as he was in sight. When at last he vanished, an expression of scornful contempt darkened the bearded face of the cowman, and he muttered:
"Bill Tozer, you think you're smart, but I understand you!"
In the interview which has just been recorded the visitor believed he had outwitted the guide at every step, and yet exactly the reverse was the fact. Hank Hazletine had pretended a stupidity which was not real. He noted the contradictions in the declarations of Tozer the instant they were made, but gave no evidence of it, his object being to draw out the miscreant, in which purpose he succeeded perfectly.
The whole truth was manifest to the guide. Fred Greenwood had been abducted not by Motoza alone, but by him and Bill Tozer. Beyond a doubt the daring scheme was the invention of the white man, who found a willing partner in the vagrant Sioux, who burned with enmity toward the youth. It was Tozer who made the mistake of supposing that the father of Fred was half-owner of the ranch, and, therefore, presumably a rich man. Tozer had formed the plan of the abduction while at Bowman's ranch, and showed by his promptness that he had not allowed the grass to grow under his feet.
These meditations occupied but a few minutes, when the cowman walked toward Jack, who, seeing him approaching, advanced to meet him. Hazletine felt that the change of conditions made it necessary to talk more freely than heretofore with the boy.
"Hank, it seems to me we are throwing away time," said the youth, a trifle impatiently.