“And I’ll hitch up my team immediately,” the rancher said.
“I’ll go with you,” Mary exclaimed.
“Tut, tut, girl.”
“I can help you, and I want to do something to help Mr. Weir and Janet Hosmer, even if it’s only a little bit. I’m strong, I don’t care if it is late––anyway, I’d just have nightmares if I stayed here alone,––and I can help you with him. I’m going,” she ended, obstinately.
Johnson eyed her for a moment, then yielded.
“Nothing to be afraid of now,” he rejoined, “but if you would rather go along with your dad, all right.”
Five minutes later Steele and Janet were emerging from the canyon upon the mesa. The drizzling rain still continued and the unseen mist beat cool upon their cheeks as the car swung away from Terry Creek for town. Except for the stream of light projected before them, they were engulfed in Stygian darkness; and save for the slithering sound of the tires on the wet road, they moved in profound night silence.
“That business is arranged,” Steele said, after a time. “But we still have the results of the attack on Martinez to deal with. I don’t know how long he’ll hold out against the men who dragged him off, probably not long. I suppose Burkhardt and perhaps Vorse took him, and they’ll stop at nothing to get the paper they’re after. How they learned of it, I don’t know, but find out about it they did; and they’ll force the information they want from Martinez if they have to resort to hot irons. 182 That’s the kind of men they are. The lawyer will stick up to a certain point––then he’ll tell. That brings you into their way.”
“You also,” Janet answered.
“I’ve been there for some time,” was his grim response. “But in your case it’s different. I’m worried, I tell you frankly.”