"The dog," returned Kiddie. "I want to see Sheila. Go an' fetch her, Rube."
As Kiddie reached the cabin, he saw that the door was not locked. It was an inch or two ajar. He pushed it open farther, and strode within. He sniffed. There was a smell of tobacco smoke in the air. The living-room was in confusion, the furniture out of place. He ran into the farther room. Here the confusion was greater. A window-pane was broken, and the window itself was open.
For the next few minutes he went about opening cupboards and drawers. Then he heard footsteps on the veranda, and he went back to the front door.
"Don't come in, Isa! Stay where you are, Rube," he cried. "I've been robbed! Some one's broken in and gone off with all my jewellery, my gold watch, my best revolvers, my cash-box with hundreds of pounds in it. Where's the hound, Rube? Haven't you brought her? Didn't you find her?"
"I—I found her, Kiddie," Rube stammered, "but I couldn't bring her. She's dead! Shot dead."
CHAPTER XXI
THE CLUE OF YELLOW WORSTED
"Sheila—shot dead!" cried Kiddie, staring blankly in front of him.
Rube Carter nodded his head gravely. He saw that Kiddie was deeply moved.