"Does your father know you are back in the valley?"
"No—yes, he does, too!"
"You fired that shot that killed the horse, didn't you?"
Young Kitsong betrayed anxiety. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Which of you rode the blaze-faced sorrel?"
In spite of himself the boy glanced quickly at the girl, who shook her head.
Hanscom addressed himself to her. "Señorita, which of your friends rode the blaze-faced sorrel?"
Her head dropped in silent refusal to answer.
"Oh, well," said the ranger, "we'll find out in the course of time. My eyesight is pretty keen, and I can swear that it was the man on the sorrel horse that fired the shot that stopped the Kauffman team. Now one or the other of you will have to answer to that charge." His voice took on a sterner note. "What were you doing on Watson's porch last Saturday?"
The girl started and flushed. "I wasn't on his porch."