He felt certain that Leslie would take refuge in the shack up Wood River cañon where Wilson had stored some of the supplies in preparation for the winter’s work on the coal claims. In this case he would be discovered, for it was in that direction that the sheriff and Sandy had gone as Ross was climbing the Crosby trail. Therefore, it was with anxiety that the boy looked for the return of the McKenzies.
Darkness had fallen when he left the tunnel that night, and as he emerged from the trees that clustered about the dump, he saw a light in the McKenzie cabin. Without waiting for his supper, he crossed the little valley and rapped on the door.
"Hello, Doc," came Sandy’s voice from within. "Haul up the latch-string and show yerself. Comin’ to crow over us, ain’t ye?" he continued as Ross entered. "Well, that ye can, fer we can’t find hide ner hair of Leslie, and the sheriff has hit the trail to Basin about as mad as they make ’em over the whole thing!"
Here Sandy threw his head back and laughed as amusedly as though the entire affair were a joke of his own manufacture. He did not seem to harbor the least resentment against Ross for having blocked the wheels of his game. Rather, he applauded the blocking frankly, while Waymart smoked stolidly beside the table and said nothing.
"That little note that you left for Less is what done the business," Sandy went on cheerfully reviewing the situation. "The sheriff had forgot that note ’til we got up here and the bird wa’n’t t’ be found in the hand ner the bush neither. That was a neat little trick, Doc, almost as neat as the way ye come it over the sheriff on the trail to Cody. Guess he’ll not fergit ye fer a spell! Mart, don’t be s’ stingy with that weed. Hand over some. My pipe is about as empty as the sheriff’s head."
"Why did you do it, Sandy?" Ross burst out. "What made you send word to Leslie’s father that he was here?"
Sandy composedly filled his pipe and lighted it. "It was cruelty t’ little children not t’, Doc. The very idee of Leslie Jones leavin’ his pa and––"
"His name isn’t Jones, and you know it, and I know it!" interrupted Ross. He could not keep the ring of triumph from his tone. "He is Leslie Quinn."
Sandy’s hand traveled slowly to his pipe. "Is he? How’d you find out?" he asked quickly.