"An eternity," he replied. "Or perhaps longer. I'm not sure. When I left you there at the camp I went directly back to the ranch. The men were all in bed. I went in and got my rifle and started over here. You see we are both armed!" he laughed, taking a Winchester from behind the throne of rocks. She took it from him and examined it minutely.
"A good gun," she remarked, handing it back.
"Then I started over here," he continued, "but had a brief interruption on the road in the shape of the old squaw that lives down in your community—old Mother White Blanket. She held me up in the road—positively held my horse so that I couldn't move while she told a story that would have brought tears to my eyes if I could have understood a word she said, and if my mind hadn't been so full of the most gloriously beautiful girl in the world.
"Finally I had sense enough to give her some money, and after repeating 'yes' innumerable times to her broken questions she finally gave me permission to proceed on my way. I left my horse down at the sheep-shed."
"Couldn't you understand anything she said to you?" questioned Hope eagerly.
"Not much," he admitted, and Hope, with a relieved little air, which he noticed, sank back among the rocks again.
A silence fell over them for a time, then Livingston raised his head and looked at the girl intently.
"I think she was trying to tell me something," he said slowly. "She said it was a warning; but I paid no attention to her delirium. I believe she tried to impress upon me that I was in danger. But I was insanely anxious to meet you. She said something that I had heard before, that you and the twins had driven away the men who attacked and killed poor Fritz that night. And this much more I think I understand now, that the 'old man,' whoever she meant, had given her a beating, that the twins were shut up in the stable or somewhere, and that you were a good girl because you had given her all your school money. That much is clear to me now. And also that she was very anxious that I should get out of the country immediately—which seems to be the sentiment of the majority of the people out here. The old woman is no doubt insane."
"Oh, yes," agreed the girl, "there's not a doubt but that she's plumb locoed! I'm glad you didn't allow anything she said to trouble your mind. She's a regular old beggar. The money was probably what she was after. You can't believe a word she says!"
"Yet she spoke convincingly," mused Livingston. "If I hadn't been so absorbed in the meeting I would have taken more heed of what she said. As it was, I passed her off as a little out of her mind. Of course, I knew you had no hand in that shooting at the corral, had you, Hope?" he asked in a somewhat anxious voice.