Nan's responsive heart was caught by the other's emotion. But above it leaped a fear which she was powerless to deny. Jeff? Jeff in danger? She flung out an arm. Her small hand gripped the other with a force that was incredible.
"What d'you mean?" she cried, almost fiercely. "Don't stand there like a fool. Who is going to harm Jeff?"
The sharp authority, so prompt, so unexpected, dragged the distraught woman into some command of herself. She raised her head. Her eyes were hot with unshed tears. They looked into Nan's, so urgent, yet so full of a steadfast sanity.
"It's Sikkem," she cried, steadying herself. "He's sent in to say he's badly shot up. He says he's located the rustlers' camp and must hand Jeff the news before—while he has time. Jeff's gone out there, and—Sikkem's one of the gang and escaped from Orrville four years ago."
"How d'you know?" It was Bud's heavy voice put the question. It was full of stern command.
"I've seen him. I know him, and—he knows me. He—he wrote this and sent it me."
Elvine thrust the crumpled note at Bud. Her gesture was almost desperate.
"When did he send it?" Again came Bud's command.
"Days ago."
"An' Jeff—didn't know till—now?"