“He’s my father,” said Gerald.
“That so? Then I’m right glad to meet you.” The sheriff extended a horny hand, which Gerald shook. “I knew him years ago. Didn’t realize he had a boy as old as you. Well, we must be getting on. Sorry you can’t give us a clue to the boy’s whereabouts.”
“I AM SHERIFF OF THIS COUNTY.”
“Dorothy’s Triumph.”
“It is too bad,” said Gerald. “When we last heard the cries they came from about that direction,” and he extended his finger down the mountainside. “Then they grew fainter and seemed to be moving off to the east. We’d like very much to help you, sheriff. If we’d any idea it was only a boy, and a scapegoat, at that, we could have caught and held him until your arrival.”
“Well, I could hardly expect that,” returned the minion of the law, with a good-natured smile. “Come, Haley, let’s be off. He can’t have gone far between midnight and now, so we’re apt to overhaul him at some of the farm houses up the valley. Good-by, boys—see you later!”
The men tipped their hats to the ladies out of courtesy for their presence, and rode away.
“Hope they don’t see us later,” said Jim, as he stood with Gerald gazing after their receding forms.
“No; for he might catch us at an inopportune moment. If they ever found Len in our camp there’d be the very dickens to pay.”
“Couldn’t do anything to us, Gerald, and I don’t believe he’d have any right to take Len, unless there’s some papers filed in the court of this county, appointing James Haley his guardian. Just merely because he’s an orphan don’t give a man a right to take him and hold him against his will—even if he is his uncle.”