“Miss Schuyler is going with you?”
“Of course,” and Hetty smiled mischievously as she glanced at her companion. “Still, you needn’t be jealous, Chris. I’ll take the best care she doesn’t make love to him.”
Flora Schuyler looked away across the prairie, which was not quite what one would have expected from a young woman of her capacities; but the laughing answer served to banish the lad’s suspicions, and he walked with them towards the door. Then he stopped, and when he drew a key from an inner pocket Hetty saw something twinkle in the moonlight at his belt.
“Chris,” she said, “stand still for a minute and shut your eyes quite tight.”
The lad did as he was bidden, for a few years ago he had been the complaisant victim of Hetty’s pleasantries, and felt a light touch on his lips. Then, there was a pluck at his belt, and Hetty was several yards away when he made a step forward with his eyes wide open. She was laughing at him, but there was a pistol in her hand.
“It was only my fingers, Chris, and Flo wasn’t the least nearer than she is now,” she said. “If you dared to think anything else, you would make me too angry. We’ll bring this thing back to you in five minutes, but you wouldn’t have us go in there quite defenceless. Now you walk across the corral, and wait until we tell you.”
Allonby was very young, and somewhat susceptible. Hetty was also very pretty, and, he fancied, Miss Schuyler even prettier still; but he had a few misgivings, and when they went in closed the lower half of the door and set his back to it.
“No,” he said decisively, “I’m staying right here.”
The girls made no demur, but when they had crossed a portion of the long building Miss Schuyler touched her companion. “I’ll wait where I am,” she said drily, “you will not want me.”
Hetty went on until she came to where the light of a lantern shone faintly in a stall. A man sat there with his hands still bound and a wide red smear upon his forehead. His face flushed suddenly as he glanced at her, but he said nothing.