“Sure, somethin’ terrible has happened since ye went away.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Shure, sor, the young lady, Bessie, has gone, sor, an’ divil a wan av us kin foind her anywhere.”
“Bessie Rodman gone?” gasped Frank. “Can that be possible?”
“Shure, sor, it is, an’ faix they all do believe that the divils av cowboys, be the orders av Artemus Cliff, have got her agin.”
“Great heavens!” cried Frank, with horror, “how on earth could they have done that? Is there not enough of you here to prevent?”
“Shure, sor, that is thrue enough,” cried Barney. “But it’s the girrul’s fault hersilf, as ivery wan believes.”
“Her fault!” cried Frank, in surprise. “How could that be?”
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE LOVERS QUEST.
“I’ll tell ye how it was, Mister Reade,” cried bluff Harmon; the vigilant, as he came us. “Ye see the gal took big chances. Thar’s a spring in that bit av bushes there an’ she went over to git a drink of water. Nobody has seen her since.”