Laura Waynefleet was preparing breakfast, and the door of the ranch stood open, when she heard the sharp clatter of the flung-down slip-rails in the fence across the clearing jar upon the stillness of the surrounding woods. It was early in the morning, and since it was evident that, if the strangers who were approaching came from the settlement, they must have set out as soon as it was light, she decided that their business was probably urgent. Laying down the frying-pan in which she was making flapjacks, she moved toward the door, and stood watching two men ride across the clearing in the direction of the house. They did not belong to the settlement, for she had never seen either of them before, a fact which made it clear that they had not ridden in from the cañon. She had quick eyes, and she noticed that, although they could not have ridden very far that morning, their horses appeared jaded, which suggested that they had made a long journey the previous day. The men appeared weary, too, and she imagined that they were not accustomed to the Bush.
As she watched them she wondered with a trace of uneasiness what their business could be, and decided that it was, perhaps, as well that her father was busy in the stable, where he could not hear them arrive. Since Gordon usually called at the ranch when he went down to the settlement, she was more or less acquainted with what was being done at the cañon and with Nasmyth’s affairs, and she was on her guard when one of the strangers pulled his horse up close in front of her.
“Can we hire a couple of horses here?” he asked. “Ours are played out.”
There was then a cayuse pony in Waynefleet’s stable, but it belonged to a neighbouring rancher, and Laura had no intention of handing it over to the strangers.
“I’m afraid not,” she answered. “The only horse on the ranch does not belong to us, and I wouldn’t care to hire it out unless I had permission. Besides, I may want it myself. You could have obtained horses at the settlement hotel.”
“We didn’t put up there.”
“But you must have come through the settlement. You have evidently ridden in from the railroad.”
The man laughed. “Well,” he admitted, “we certainly did, but we got off the trail last night, and they took us in at Bullen’s ranch. Soon after we started out a chopper told us we could save a league by riding up the valley instead of by the settlement. Does the man you said the horse belonged to live in the neighbourhood?”
Laura did not answer immediately. She was quick-witted, and she recognized that, while the man’s explanation was plausible, there were weak points in it. For one thing, the previous night had not been dark, and it was difficult to understand how anyone could have wandered off the wide trail to the settlement into the one which led through thick undergrowth to Bullen’s ranch. She guessed that the strangers must have had an object in not visiting the settlement. Then there was, it seemed to her, something suggestive in the fact that Bullen, who had a share in Nasmyth’s project, and owned several horses, had not seized upon the opportunity to aid the travellers, for, if he had not been willing to lend his horses, it could only have been because he was a little dubious about the strangers.