With a finger on her lip, Flores looked back to see that the American girl was following closely. Dorothy heard voices—men’s voices. At first she did not recognize them.
The Mexican girl led her close behind a slab wall and silently pointed to a crevice. At the moment there was not a sound beyond the wall, and Dorothy tiptoed to it and peered through the crack.
There sat Hank Ledger, the foreman of the ranch, and Philo Marsh. Both were smoking and they were evidently having an earnest conference.
Dorothy looked back at Flores questioningly, and the Mexican girl nodded with emphasis. She had brought Dorothy here that the latter might “leeston” to these two men. But Dorothy had no intention of doing such a thing.
Of course, Flores knew no better. The puzzling fact that Flores wished Dorothy to listen to Hank and Marsh was a secondary consideration in the Glenwood girl’s mind in the first flush of her discovery. She turned swiftly again to shake her head angrily at the girl, when Philo Marsh spoke:
“Why, you know very well what will happen here, Hank. This woman is just a plain fool. She’ll get to sticking her nose into everything, and you’ll soon be hunting another job. And it won’t be at a hundred a month, neither!
“You might as well pad your pocket a little against your fall. It’s comin’ tuh yuh—and a good, hard bump it will be, too.”
“I dunno that,” growled Hank.
“Then you’re the only one around here who don’t know it. It’s comin’ tuh yuh,” he repeated.
“I kalkerlate this Mrs. White is a mighty able lady,” said Hank, slowly.