"That's the important point," urged Silk. "You've got to prove that somebody else than yourself—one of the ranch hands, one of the farm servants, or even some stranger, had discovered where that money was hidden and could have stolen it. You say the horses were restless; you say a dog barked. Did that mean nothing? Say, you'd better leave this affair in my hands. I'll ride along to the ranch right now and have a jaw with Sam Crisp. Are you coming back with me?"
Charlie Fortescue's face went very red under its sunburn. He shook his head resolutely.
"No," he objected. "I'm not going back. Sam Crisp believes me guilty. He has denounced me as a contemptible thief; and in Dora's hearing, too. I couldn't face Dora. I shall never look into her eyes or take her hand in mine again until her father owns that I'm guiltless. Go yourself, if you will. I've told you everything. I'm not going back. If I'm wanted, either to be arrested as a thief or apologised to as an honest man, you'll not have much difficulty in finding me."
Sergeant Silk mounted to the saddle.
"Very well," he agreed. "So long!"
CHAPTER II
THE BAG OF GOLD
During the further ride over the narrow stretch of prairie that they were crossing towards the foothills, Silk was uncommonly silent, volunteering no opinion concerning Charlie Fortescue. Percy began to believe that his companion regarded the case as of no especial interest or importance. Even when questioned, the sergeant gave him little satisfaction.