GRANT’S DEFIANCE.
It was impossible for Rod wholly to conceal his disturbed state of mind from his aunt, but he skillfully evaded answering her questions, by which she sought to learn what was the trouble. If the implicating handkerchief had been found by Barker, Springer and Piper, as stated, he wondered how it had come to be where it was discovered, and slowly a suspicion and a possible solution crept into his mind. Nevertheless, he was not yet satisfied that a “job” had not been put up on him by Barker, and he felt a strong desire to question Springer and Piper. Later, if they persisted in corroborating Barker’s words, he would find the fellow on whom his suspicions had turned and give him a taste of the “third degree.”
Unable to remain inactive while his enemy was at work, and really dreading the reappearance of Deputy Sheriff Pickle with a warrant for his arrest, Rod made an excuse to go for the mail and set his feet toward the village. He was hesitating about entering the postoffice when some one called to him from the shadows between two buildings.
“Davis!” he breathed. “Perhaps this is as good a time as any.”
“’St!” hissed Spotty. “Come here, Rod, old feller. Something doin’.”
Grant joined him. “What is it, Davis? What’s up?”
“I don’t know just what’s up,” answered Spotty; “but there’s something in the air, you bet. See that light in the winder over there?” He pointed to a lighted window over one of the stores across the street.
“Yes.”
“That’s old Shyster Frances’ office. They’ve got Bunk up there, and I guess they’re goin’ for him. Wonder what he’s done now?”
“Got Lander up there, have they? Who’s got him?”