Murray nodded. "Seems to be. Queer what he's doing here, Sandy! But the girl—the girl Claire! I tell you, she's white! That's the queerest thing of all."
Piute came forward, bearing coffee and flapjacks, and sat down to light his corncob. He wore a portentous and solemn air.
"Ye don't think there's nothin' wrong, do ye?" he asked.
"No," said Murray decisively. "Nothing. It's something we don't understand, but it's nothing wrong. Tom Lee is no ordinary man."
"I reckon not," said Piute drily. "He done offered five thousand for Morongo Valley."
The two friends quickly glanced at each other, then stared at Piute.
"Five thousand?" repeated Sandy, incredulous.
"Yep. Now I'm putting it straight up to you gents, layin' all cards down, and leavin' it to you to do the right thing if ye sell to him. He wants to see you and buy the property. I guess you'll sell at that figger, huh?"
Murray leaned back in his chair and gazed at Sandy.
"It's up to you, Mac," he said briefly.