"M-h'm!" he assented.
"What?" Harry's voice rang. She drew herself erect, and in the luminous darkness of the summer night the two in the seat of the jolting wagon stared at each other.
"Tell me," she demanded sharply, "tell me what you know—what you think!" And still staring at him, she waited for his reply.
"I know that your brother was riding my horse. I saw him on it."
CHAPTER VII
For a minute they jogged on in silence. Then, in a voice that was clear with scorn, Harry said:
"So you sent my brother to jail just for riding your miserable old horse!"
But although her voice was cold and hard, there was a note of fatigue and distress in it that Garnett was quick to understand. He flushed hotly, and a wave of sympathy for the girl swept over him. Those few indignant words of hers made him certain that she knew no more who the real horse thief was than he did himself. She was just what she had appeared that first time in the train—a sweet, gay, warm-hearted little girl, amusingly ignorant of everything Western!