“I’ve thought things out this last two days,” he said quietly. Then he turned to Peter. “But this warning. What’s made it necessary? Have others been––thinking?”
“No. They’ve been put wise.” Peter’s eyes sought the unsmiling face of Elia. “You see, Elia hunted him out. He’s told Doc where he’ll find the rustlers. But mercifully he didn’t say who the rustler was.”
“Ah, Elia hates Will,” Jim said thoughtfully.
“Doc’s setting out to-night to––find him,” Peter added.
Jim glanced from Eve to the grizzled man. Just for a second he marveled at him. Then the feeling passed as recollections flew through his mind of a dozen and one kindnesses of heart which this quaint Englishman had performed. This was just the sort of thing Peter would do. He would simply, and unconcernedly, thrust his head into the lion’s jaws to help anybody.
“You’re going to take the warning?” he inquired.
“Sure.” Then Peter added apologetically, with a swift glance in Eve’s direction, “You see, we can’t let ’em––find him.”
A shadowy smile grew into Jim’s eyes. Peter wanted his horse for a purpose. And that very purpose would inevitably drive the brand which was already upon him deeper and deeper into his flesh. He was calmly asking him to sacrifice himself for Eve. He glanced in the girl’s direction, and all the old love was uppermost in his simple heart.
“When did you get in?” he asked Peter, abruptly.
“Just now.”