The girl's eyes thanked him, but her words were full of practical thought.
"Will Mason come here? Because, if so, we'll get these things outside ready."
"No. We've got to carry them down the trail and meet him there. There may be a rush. There may be a scuffle. We don't know. I half think you'd better stay here while I go and meet him."
Betty shook her head.
"I'm going to help," she exclaimed, with a flash of battle in her eyes.
"Then come on." Her uncle shouldered the heavier of the two sacks, and was about to tuck the other under his arm, but Betty took it from him, and lifted it to her shoulder in a twinkling.
"Halves," she cried, as she moved toward the door.
The man laughed light-heartedly and blew out the lights. Then, as he reached the girl's side, a distant report caused him to stop short.
"What's that?" he demanded.
"A pistol shot," cried Betty. "Come along!"