“Come here.”
They went softly across the patio and up to the door, where she let them in. They could see the silhouette of Nanah against a window, where she was watching. Marion closed the door softly.
“There wasn’t any light,” said Hashknife.
“Nanah saw you leave your horses,” said Marion. “She knew who it was. About half an hour ago Nanah and I were sitting on the back porch in the moonlight. It was wonderful out there, but it was getting cool; so we came in. There were no lamps lighted.
“And Nanah swears she saw a man looking in the window, where she is now. I told her she must be seeing things, but she persisted. So we did not light a lamp. We watched and watched, but the man did not come back. I went to the rear door and opened it a little. It squeaks a little, you know. Then I saw a man cross the patio. He was all humped up, and it seemed to me as though he had been looking in the window of the bunk-house. I can’t be sure about it. I’m sure he did not suspect that I had seen him, because he stopped in the gateway for quite a while. Then he stepped into the shadow on the other side of the wall.”
“How long ago was this?” asked Hashknife.
“Not over thirty minutes ago.”
“He must have been lookin’ for us,” grinned Sleepy.
“And if he seen us sneak in here he’ll know we’re on to him,” said Hashknife. “But we’ve got to take a chance. Come out on the porch. Tell Nanah to light the lamps.”
The old Indian woman bustled around, lighting lamps, while the rest of them followed Hashknife to the rear porch.