The deputy who let them in said that the sheriff was at breakfast—a fact which was made evident by the savory smell of sausages which pervaded the entire hall, and a moment later, Throop, hearing their voices, came to the dining-room door, napkin in hand. "Come in," he called. "Come in an have a hot cake."
"Thank you, we've had our breakfast," Hanscom replied.
"Oh, well, you can stand a cup of coffee, anyway, and Miss Helen wants to see you."
The wish to see Helen brought instant change to the ranger's plan. Putting down his hat, he followed Kauffman into the pleasant sunlit breakfast-room with a swiftly pounding heart.
Helen, smiling cheerily, rose to meet her stepfather with a lovely air of concern. "Dear old daddy, how do you feel this morning?"
"Very well indeed," he bravely falsified.
She turned to Hanscom with outstretched hand. "Isn't it glorious this morning!" she exclaimed, rather than asked.
The sheriff, like the good boomer that he was, interrupted the ranger's reply. "Oh, we have plenty of mornings like this."
She protested. "Please don't say that! I want to consider this morning especially fine. I want it to bring us all good luck."
Evidently Throop had kept his promise to Hanscom, for Helen said nothing of the battle of the night before, and with sudden flare of confidence the ranger said: