Mrs. Hartwell looked up at Jack and at sight of his bloody face she started to get up. He looked at her. She was as bloody as he, and her clothes were dusty and disarranged.
“More sheepherders?” queried Hashknife.
“Yeah, —— yuh! What are yuh doin’ here, anyway?”
“Excuse me for appearin’ in this condition,” said Sleepy, starting to disrobe, “but this thing was what broke the telescope’s straps. There’s a limit to what yuh can git into ’em.”
Jack squinted at Molly.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “You’ve been hurt, Molly. Did these men ——?”
He whirled and faced Hashknife, who had moved toward him.
“They found me and brought me home, Jack. I—I was going away—going to Totem City to catch the train—home. But the cinch turned and I fell off. That valise was too heavy.”
Molly Hartwell began crying softly, and Hashknife walked over to Sleepy, who had managed to get out of the gown.
“We better go, Sleepy,” he said quietly.