"Oh, no, no; set your minds at rest on that," responded Peggy.
"Everything is all right, at least—at least—"
Her voice wavered a bit and Mr. Bell gently led her to a stool in front of the rough camp they had set up in the arroyo.
"Now then, my dear," he said, "what is it?"
Peggy faced her eager listeners, and, recovering from her momentary tremor, told her story from beginning to end in a clear, convincing way.
"Do you think I did right in coming?" she concluded. Her gaze fell appealingly upon Mr. Bell. She did not wish this sinewy, wiry, self-reliant man to think that she was a victim of a school girl's hysterical fears. But the mining man's words speedily set her at ease on this point.
"Think you did right!" he echoed, while a rather serious expression came over his face; "my dear girl, if you had not come to me I should have thought you did very wrong. You have made only one mistake and that was in not telling me before this time about what you overheard at the National House. This Red Bill, as they call him, is one of the most unscrupulous ruffians that cumber the face of the Nevada desert. In any other community he would have been brought up with a round turn long ago. But here," he shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose after all," he went on, "it's the old story of who'll bell the cat."
"Do you think that we are in serious danger?" inquired Jimsy. His eyes were round as saucers and his usually good natured face look troubled.
"Well, not in serious danger, my boy," rejoined Mr. Bell; "but, just between us four, mind, it behooves us to use all speed in getting the title of this mine recorded. This Red Bill is as resourceful as a fox, and what Miss Peggy has told us shows that he is closer on our trail than I should have imagined possible. The draining of the water hole is unfortunate in two ways. If, as I now suspect, he is camped in the hills to the east of the camp, it is plain that he has secured a supply of water sufficient to last him for some time. And this cuts both ways, for his gain in that respect means our loss. The more water he has the less we have. That much is clear."
"Clear as mud," said Jimsy ruefully; but his tone robbed the words of any humorous significance.
"You have reached a decision, Mr. Bell?" asked Roy. The boy had not spoken yet.