"Who could it be?"
"Who could it?"
Some instinctive feeling assured the young girl that the robber could be none other than the dark and courtly stranger who had scrutinized it so curiously the previous evening.
"I believe the person that took it was the one who gave us the meat, aunt."
"Sho, child! he didn't look like a thief. I never seen a prouder or a nicer-lookin' gentleman. He wasn't one of the common emigrants, by no means."
"I know he didn't look like a thief. He looked as if he'd sooner die than do a mean thing. But I can't help feeling as if it were he who took it."
"I'd sooner suspect some of them rough fellows that have had their eyes on it for days. And, after all, I don't believe nobody took it. You've just dropped it off—like as not into the fire. Let's take a good look."
They searched so long that they came near going without their breakfast, only desisting when they could no longer delay their preparations for a start. The two trains were to proceed forward together. The stranger did not offer any more civilities to the women, but Elizabeth saw him, more than once, with his dark eyes fixed upon her in intense watchfulness. She felt the impulse to go up to him and demand her property. Yet he looked so cold, so proud, so self-absorbed, so much as if the fiery flash of his anger and disdain would strike her with lightning, that she did not dare.
In the midst of her perplexities, Buckskin Joe came up. He listened to their story of the loss with silent interest, remaining lost in thought for some moments afterward, seeming to be turning some problem over in his mind.
"It's queer," he remarked, presently. "I don't know none of our chaps that I regards as mean enough to steal a woman's finery. It mought be somebody in the other train. I'll keep my eye out. Don't ye fret, Miss. If any feller in these two companies has got that ring, you'd better believe I'll track it. 'Twon't be long 'fore I'll be on the scent."