“Well,” said Breckenridge drily, “I scarcely think this one should worry you. From the fashion in which it reached me I have a notion it’s from a lady.”
There was a little gleam in Larry’s eyes when he took the note, and Breckenridge noticed that he was very silent as they rode on. When they reached Fremont he remained a while in the stable, and when at last he entered the house Breckenridge glanced at him questioningly.
“You have something on your mind,” he said. “What have you been doing, Larry?”
Grant smiled curiously. “Giving the big bay a rub down. I’m riding to Cedar Range to-night.”
“Have you lost your head?” Breckenridge stared at him. “Muller saw the Sheriff riding in this morning, and it’s more than likely he is at the Range. You are wanted rather more badly than ever just now, Larry.”
Grant’s face was quietly resolute as he took out the note and passed it to his companion. “I have tried to do my duty by the boys; but I am going to Cedar to-night.”
Breckenridge opened the note, which had been written the previous day, and read, “In haste. Come to the bluff beneath the Range—alone—nine to-morrow night.”
Then, he stared at the paper in silence until Grant, who watched him almost jealously, took it from him. “Yes,” he said, though his face was thoughtful, “of course, you must go. You are quite sure of the writing?”
Grant smiled, as it were, compassionately. “I would recognize it anywhere!”
“Well,” said Breckenridge significantly, “that is perhaps not very astonishing, though I fancy some folks would find it difficult. The ‘In haste’ no doubt explains the thing, but it seems to me the last of it does not quite match the heading.”