“All right,” cut in Hardrock. “Wait just a minute, will you? Come ashore, Micky. Got any gasoline aboard?”
“Ten gallon in the tank still,” said the boy, grinning.
“Know anything about engines?”
“He knows all about ’em,” broke in the girl. “Why?”
“I have a launch down the shore that I’d like to have him look over. She’s down by that clump of sumach, Micky, drawn up. See if you can find the trouble, will you? We may have to put her into the water.”
“Sure,” and Micky started off. Hardrock turned to the girl, smiling.
“Excuse me for the interruption, but I had a bit of news too, and didn’t want him to overhear. Now come and sit down and tell me what’s on your mind.”
They sat down together on a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, and Hardrock got his pipe alight.
“Two things,” said the girl, “or maybe three,” and she laughed. “First, Hughie and some of his friends are coming over here tonight. I heard him tell Father they meant to drive you away, and send you back to Arizona.”
Hardrock, thinking of the Sheriff among the trees, broke into a hearty laugh.