“Was the station master’s prophecy correct?” Margaret asked.
“Were we robbed?” Virginia inquired anxiously.
Malcolm rose. “Let’s go in by the fire,” he said. “Sing Long wants to clean the table.” The Chinaman had been opening the door from his room every few moments to see if the young people were through. Following Malcolm’s suggestion the girls led the way into the big living room. The lad put a dry mesquite root on the coals and then sat down in his favorite grandfather chair. “Yes, indeed, something of an unusual nature happened that night and this is what it was:”
CHAPTER IV
MALCOLM’S STORY
When the girls were seated about the fireplace, they turned eagerly to the narrator of the tale which had been interrupted by their moving from the kitchen to the living-room.
“Let me see,” the lad was purposely tantalizing, “where did I end the first chapter?” Then, before he could be prompted, he continued: “Oh, yes; I remember.
“After Davie Wells had left us, Lucky suggested that we ride over to the Three Sand Hills. He wanted to climb to the top of the highest one and take observations, so to speak, of the entire surrounding country. It’s a hard climb, because of the sliding stones and sand, but we made it and held to the giant yucca up there, while, with shaded eyes we looked in every direction. It was an unusually clear day and every object stood out as though it were magnified, but not a sign of a gypsy wagon did we see. Lucky did make out a sand cloud way to the north, but it wasn’t large enough to hold a caravan. Lucky believed it to be made by a small herd of cattle trailing toward Puffed Snake Water Hole.
“It was dusk when we entered the ranch house, and Sing Long was the only person at home. He had been baking all the afternoon in the kitchen, and had neither seen nor heard anyone passing. We did not tell him that we had been informed that a gypsy caravan, made up of at least six covered wagons, had been seen leaving Douglas and heading our way. We had decided that there really was nothing in the report, and Sing Long was inclined to be imaginative.
“After supper Lucky and I sat for a time in front of the fireplace. I was reading, and, though Lucky held a newspaper and stared at it as though he were deeply engrossed in some item of Douglas news, he was evidently thinking all the time of what we had heard that afternoon. His first remark proved this.
“Suddenly he sat up very straight and seemed to be listening. ‘Did you hear it?’ he asked. ‘A sort of a rattling noise?’