“Funny life,” said the old Indian woman. “Frank Moran hate Mose Conley; Mose Conley hate Frank Moran. Now both have son in jail for same thing.”
“I told that man what Ryker said to you, mother?”
Mrs. Conley looked curiously at Dawn.
“I told him that Ryker came to see me and talked with you,” said Dawn. “This man knew what Ryker said.”
“You tell him what Ryker say about turn Pete loose if you marry him?”
“I didn’t tell him all about it; he seemed to know.”
“Ryker tell him, Dawn?”
“No.”
Dawn got to her feet and looked down the road. Some one was riding up along the road. It was Ryker. Dawn knew who it was as soon as she saw him, even at that distance.
“Ryker is coming now,” she said. “I won’t talk to him.”