"Poor aunt! She must be in a terrible state of mind," rejoined Roy dejectedly. "If only we could have got word to her or Mr. Bell—"
"In that case we could have taken it ourselves," wisely remarked
Peggy; "well, brother mine, there is no use in borrowing trouble.
Let's make the best of it. I've an idea that that redheaded man
means to offer us some sort of a proposition after dinner."
"Wish he'd offer us some dinner first; I'm ravenous."
"Well, I couldn't eat a thing till I've got some of this dust off me, so please get me a bucket of water."
"Say, look at that Chinaman eyeing us," broke off Roy suddenly; "wonder what's the matter with him?"
"Guess he isn't used to visitors," suggested Peggy. "So this is where this gang, we heard talked about in Blue Creek, have been hiding themselves. No wonder the sheriff couldn't find them."
"It's an ideal hiding place," agreed Roy, "far too ideal to suit us.
I don't see how we'd ever get out of here without help."
"Oh, as for that, I kept careful track of the way we came. I noted all the landmarks, and I really believe I could pick up the trail—is that the way you say it?—again."
"Good for you. I hope we have a chance to try out your sense of observation. But I'm off to get that water. Say, that Chinaman's staring harder than ever. What do you suppose he wants?"
"I haven't an idea. Opium perhaps. Don't they eat it or do something with it and then have beautiful dreams? I've heard—oh, Roy," the girl broke off breathlessly, "I've got it! You know that little jade god that Clara Cummings brought back from China with her when her father resigned as consul there?"