After forcing Rust to remove his hat from the Celestial's sacred object, and insisting that he apologize to the cook, she had convinced Chan that her ready tripping probably had saved his life. The outfit undoubtedly would have "eaten him alive" had the carving knife reached its mark. Thereafter Chan swore by her, and for her, but never at her.
"Murdock, he clazy about Missie Flame—so much clazy he can kepp that sleclet away from nobody but she—you."
"Well," she returned after a moment of pondering on the Chink's sage observation, "you'll keep my early departure this morning a 'sleclet' from all hands or I'll—I'll feed you to the buzzards!"
Still grinning, Chan went about the cooking of a hurried breakfast, sorry that there were so few culinary touches that might be added to an early morning meal that was calculated particularly to "stick to the ribs."
Breakfast finished, she leathered her own particular black; paused a moment to stroke the cold muzzle of Silver, the strange visitor; then she mounted and was off in an easterly direction at a pace calculated for long distance travel. She congratulated herself that she was up and away before any of the outfit was stirring. Even on ordinary occasions she was adverse to answering questions about her proposed movements, but never had been able to persuade her father and the older busters of the fact; moreover, this was no ordinary occasion.
To herself, Flame did not apologize for the unwonted interest she was taking in the affairs of a comparative stranger. No more did she try to explain this interest. The fact that it came from the heart, not the brain, did not alarm her. There had been so little heart interest in her life thus far that she found a sort of thrill toying with this one.
Her chief concern, as her horse brushed through the fire weed and over the stretches of rising grass, was whether or not she could pick the pass he would take on his ride into Montana and, picking it, would she arrive before he had gone through. Admittedly she was worried about what had happened on or about the home ranch. Childress' leaving of the silver stallion was a queer proceeding at least. She did not doubt her father's statement that their big neighbor had brought the horse over and ridden away toward his one-section ranch on a led animal. But the general demeanor of the boys, particularly of Smiling Dick Murdock, had alarmed her as to what might have happened when Childress had rounded the lake and ridden beyond the vision range of Sam Gallegher. It was more to satisfy herself on this point than to attempt to pry into the big ranchman's affairs that had led her afield so early.
And if she were lucky enough to encounter him jogging southward into the State of Trouble, what should she say to him, what ask, how explain her early-morning presence so far from home? With the thrill of a school girl engaged on some momentous undertaking in behalf of love's young dream, she asked herself, answered herself—then discarded her answers.
In case Jack—Mr. Childress proved entirely unmolested, in good health and in his right mind, riding about his own private business, Flame realized she would need to take care lest she make herself and her impulsive action seem ridiculous. That would be simply insupportable! He might think of her worse than the situation really warranted—that she was in love with him; when, of course, she was but "mildly interested." Yes, she would need to take care, unless—and she almost hoped that something in the way of mild discipline had been administered. What a chance that would give for her to show sisterly interest and sympathy!
Meantime her mount had been throwing the miles behind fleet heels. They had reached a point on the range where she must choose her pass for the "hold-up." Would he take the narrow, rocky one that gave way across "Medicine Line" directly south of his own place, or would he swing around to the valley farther east. She decided that all depended on where in the States he was headed. As she was totally without information on this point, she accepted the first chance that offered and eased her black down into a rocky defile that afforded a direct gateway to Crow's Nest, a settlement of ill-repute, as well as to law-abiding towns farther south.