“Not a chance on earth,” agreed Bailey. “That outfit o’ thieves knowed exactly what they was about. Everything was cut and dried, and somebody sure tipped ’em off regardin’ the layout here. I’ll bet a thousand ag’inst a chink wash ticket that them bronks will be took care of across the line so’st they can’t be located by nobody. Them thieves picked a time when I was alone at the shelter sheds and Porter and Nix was to the winter sports at the lake. They dropped me out o’ my saddle without any whys or wherefores, and then made off with my mount and sent a man to the stable for Peters’ and Markham’s ridin’ horses. By the time I covered the mile back to the ranch house the stock was well on the way north. I—I——”
He broke off abruptly, clenching his teeth hard as a spasm of pain ran through his body.
“I’ll get another coat,” remarked Peters, rising from his chair and starting for the door that led to his room. “It won’t be possible to make any kind of time in a long overcoat like this.” He disappeared.
Markham came to the side of the couch. “If Peters has a chance, Reece,” said he, “he’ll make a bobble of some kind and spoil it all. That’s his way. I better go to Roscommon myself. Peters can use his skates, and take the river trail, and I’ll use my skis and go over the butte. I don’t think we have a ghost of a show to head off the stock, but it’s up to us to see what we can do.”
“That’s the talk!” exclaimed Morton approvingly. “The thieves had help from this ranch,” he added darkly, tossing a significant glance toward the door through which Peters had just passed, “and I haven’t got a whole lot of confidence in at least one man around here.”
“Peters is square,” Bailey averred. “Square as a die. He jest don’t seem to have the knack for puttin’ his idees across. The man that saves them bronks, Porter,” he added significantly, “is goin’ to make the biggest kind of a hit with Goddard.”
“If any one connects with the sheriff at Roscommon in time to save the bronks,” Markham returned, “it will be me.” He spoke with a confidence that thrilled every one in the room, and Hesther, if the red in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes were any indication, most of all. “I’ll be ready,” he finished, moving toward the door, “in about two shakes.”
“You must have some hot coffee before you start,” said Hesther, “and I’ll see that it is ready for you.”
Markham was back in the room before Peters had reappeared. He wore a leather coat, and the bottoms of his trousers were laced inside his high shoe tops. Trim and handsome he looked, and ready for a grueling night’s work. Hesther was just placing the coffee on the table, and she lifted her eyes to flash a glance of admiration at the young ski runner.
“I’ll be ready in a minute, Essie,” said Markham, with a nod and a smile.