"Or," she concluded with a touch of venom, "it wouldn't be above her to run off with that long horse foreman."
"Eh?" said the major. "Don't believe it. A fine fig—ahem. Where should she run to? And why run at all?"
Marcia looked a quick distress to Mr. Hampton.
"It is late," she said timidly, "Oh, Pollock! Do you think——"
No longer to be restrained, Hampton left them and went to his room for a rifle and cartridge-belt. He intended to slip out quietly, feeling that he would get from Farris and Rogers only the sort of disbelief he had gotten from Carson. Marcia met him in the hall; she had heard his quick steps and guessed that he was going out. Now clearly, though she was frightened, she was delighted with him. He had never thrilled her like this before. She had never guessed that Pollock Hampton could be so stern-faced, so purposeful. She whispered an entreaty that he be careful, then as he went out, ran back to the others, her eyes shining.
"Pollock is going to see what is the matter," she announced excitedly. Whereat Mrs. Langworthy stared at her and then indicated facially her supreme disgust. The major suggested taking something, the occasion so plainly demanding it.
Hampton passed swiftly through the courtyard. He saw the light of the bunk-house gleaming brightly. On his way down the knoll he came upon Tommy Burkitt.
"Is it Mr. Hampton?" asked Tommy, coming close in the darkness to peer at him.
"Yes. What is it? Who are you?"
"I'm Burkitt, Tommy Burkitt, you know—Bud Lee's helper. I—I am afraid something has happened. Lee hasn't come in yet; they tried to pick him off once already, you know——"