“I know it,” said Mr. Evans, with emphasis.
“Do you think the herdsmen will allow us to leave the ranch?”
“We must take our chances on that; and it is now or never. They are scattered all over the valley; but a great many of them will be in at dark, and I will not attempt to say what the consequences will be if they find you here. I will act as your guide, and no doubt get myself into trouble by doing it. If you are going to take my advice, be quick about it. If you are not, I will go home.”
These words aroused Uncle Bob, who jumped up and put his hand into his pocket, at the same time turning toward the safe.
“I will order two horses saddled at once,” said he.
“Give no orders whatever,” replied Mr. Evans, quickly, “unless you want to arouse Ike’s suspicions. Go to the corral and get your own horses, and act as if you were going to ride about the ranch.”
“Well, we shall need some money to help us along,” said Uncle Bob, picking up a pair of saddle-bags that lay on the table. “I suppose I have a right to take what is in the safe? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is,” replied Mr. Evans.
And, although Uncle Bob would not have confessed the fact, even to himself, the tone in which the words were spoken removed a heavy burden of anxiety from his mind.
Although no attempt had been made to assist Bob and his friend after their boat went into the canyon, simply because everybody knew it would be useless, Uncle Bob had been constantly haunted by the fear that the boy might escape death in some miraculous way, and come back to rob him of the millions of which he believed himself to be the owner.