"You've been seeing so much of this Bart person, Ruth, you hadn't had any time for your old friends. Of course, I'm sorry for the way he's been put out of the running, but——"
"That 'but' does you small credit. Who do you suppose——"
"Hardley hasn't decided yet." Seymour caught the flicker of contempt in the freighter's eyes. "Better come and have dinner with me at the hotel; this isn't our tragedy."
Her displeasure seemed increased, and she gathered her reins. "I wouldn't think of it," she said with decision. "I must carry the dreadful news to uncle."
Whirling her horse, she dashed away up the road over which she had so lately come.
"Some actress, but why?" murmured Seymour.
There were several why's that the sergeant found it necessary to consider. Why had she cut him at their second meeting? Why had she feigned entire ignorance of what had happened? He could only hope that the same answer would serve for all—that she had acted so in the hope of being more free to work out a solution of the mystery as to who had killed Bart.
It was evident from Brewster's complaining attitude that the imposter had paid Miss Duperow enough attention to arouse the handsome freighter's jealousy. And Brewster had misplayed his hand by allowing his feeling to crop out at such a moment when he should have shown the murderer's detection and punishment to be his chief interest. He now stood staring up the street after her, looking utterly discomfited.
Dismounting, Seymour led Kaw across the street and joined Brewster, who snapped out of his mood upon being addressed. The information the sergeant sought was pleasantly given.
The stranger undoubtedly could get a room, such as it was, at the Bonanza Hotel. Brewster himself lived there. The "eats" weren't much, but he could take pot-luck at the restaurant. If his room wasn't airy enough, he could get ample ventilation by poking his finger through the partitions. He'd find the stables "around back." There was no telegraph office—yet, and no radio. Yes, the camp was a little slow in catching up with the times. The next mail would go out in the morning.