“I can’t find Polly,” she said, in alarm. “I’ve been to my room and to hers and she isn’t in either. Her hat and coat are gone, too.”
Scott came out of his chair with a bound. “I knew that devil was here for no good,” he said, starting for the door.
“Don’t be a fool, Marc Scott!” Clara’s voice was sharp and angry. “We saw Pachuca and those two men go off on horseback. He hasn’t carried off Polly!”
“I didn’t say he’d carried her off,” said Scott, doggedly. “She sat where she could see him at dinner. You saw him—so did she—and he saw her. This riding off is a blind——”
“You’re going to be terribly ashamed of yourself for what you’re saying. I know that girl. She wouldn’t do a thing like that any more than I would. I’m going to see Mabel Penhallow and find out what she knows about it,” said Clara, angrily.
“I’m going to find that boy and choke the life out of him. Get out of my way, Hard.”
“Look here, Scotty, that’s not the way to handle this affair,” remonstrated Hard, barring Scott’s progress toward the door and speaking with a warmth unusual to him. “Let’s get hold of Penhallow and tell him that Pachuca’s over on this side——”
“I don’t need a sheriff to handle my affairs.”
“This isn’t your affair, it’s the Government’s. If this chap’s got the nerve to think he can come over here after the way he’s acted with American property it’s up to the Government to put him right.”
“I can’t find Mabel.” Clara had returned, her face worried. “The Mexican girl said she saw an automobile go by a quarter of an hour ago and that Polly was in it. A Mexican was driving and she thought there was another man in the car. Marc, he has kidnapped her!”