“Yes—and hot. Throw us your tobacco.”
Buck pitched his pouch across, but remained where he was.
“Guess that leddy’s down at the farm by now,” Buck went on. “Joan was guessing she’d get around to-day. That’s why I didn’t go along there.”
“Yes, she is there.” The Padre lit his pipe and smoked steadily.
Buck turned quickly.
“How d’you know?”
“I met her on the trail. They missed their way this morning and hit the trail below here, at the foot of the steps.”
“You didn’t—let her see you?” Buck asked, after a pause.
The Padre smiled.
“I spoke to her. I put her on the right trail.”