"Won't ye wait till mornin', anyhow?" queried Sandy with concern.
"Nope, thanks."
Dejectedly, hopelessly, Deadoak stumbled to his cayuse, pulled himself aboard, waved a limp hand, and rode down the valley. He was slumped in the saddle like a man who sees no hope in the future.
"He's mighty cheerful over something," said Murray drily, and chuckled.
"Cheerful?"
"Well, Sandy, suppose you elucidate? Why did you turn him down?"
Sandy faced his friend and made a wide gesture.
"Murray," he said earnestly, "I'm playin' a hunch. Why should that fellow come here and make us an offer? I don't know—but there was something behind it. We've got something that somebody wants. And I've a notion who that somebody is."
"Oh!" Murray gave him a keen glance. "Then you really found something?"
Sandy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Come with me and I'll show you."