At the officer’s words old Thad rubbed his bald head meditatively. Bob bent over to pick up a bit of rock which he proceeded to examine with minute care. The girl in the kitchen caught at the table for support and, faint and trembling, with white face and horror-stricken eyes, stared through the open door toward that neighboring cabin.
Then she heard Thad say:
“We sure ain’t seen nothin’ like a convict in these parts, Jim. When did he make his break?”
“Two weeks ago,” answered the sheriff.
The color returned to the girl’s face and her trembling limbs became steady. But as she turned again toward the stove where the meal for her guests was cooking, she glanced through the open window and stood as if turned to stone.
Natachee was moving with noiseless step toward the group of men outside.
Then she heard Bob’s laugh.
“Talkin’ about the devil, sheriff, suppose you take a look behind you.”
While the officers and the Pardners were exchanging greetings with the Indian, Marta, going to the door, summoned the hungry men. They trooped into the house and Natachee, declining the invitation to join them at the table on the plea that he had eaten an early dinner, seated himself just inside the open doorway to continue his part in the general conversation.
When the sheriff had explained his mission to the Indian, Natachee, with his eyes fixed on Marta’s face, confirmed the Pardners’ opinion that no stranger had recently come into the Cañon of Gold.