“Oh, would he—”
“He would, indeed, Dearie, for the sake of his family name and the love he bears you. His last big raid was upon George Barstow's Wells-Fargo train from Yreka. They held them up on Trinity Mountain. Eighty thousand dollars in bullion, they got, even with twenty men guarding it.”
Mrs. Miller tiptoed to the window and looked out. Coming back to the girl she whispered, “The guards are tied to trees, and the gang is waiting for Dick and Cy Skinner to get back with new mules, as the Wells-Fargo mules all are branded and would give them away, but if he finds out that you are here he may—”
The Singer-Lady sprang to her feet! From the trees behind the house floated a snatch of song in a clear baritone.
“When coldness or deceit shall slight the beauty now they prize; When hollow hearts shall wear a mask, 'twill break your own to see. At such a moment I but ask that you'll remember me, you'll—”
By this time the girl was sobbing in Dick's arms, and the misunderstandings of four years were soon explained.
The Singer-Lady lifted her head at last to the sound of galloping horses. Dick was looking calmly in their direction. Terror seized her.
“What is that?”
“You must return to the house. They must not see you here.”
She clung to him with the wail of a breaking heart.