“Why, we left him at Piodie. The sheriff didn’t want us to bring him,” Budd said with bland innocence, grinning down at his questioner. “Is this here a hold-up, or what?”
“One of ’em’s a girl,” cried another of the armed men in sharp surprise.
“A girl!”
Vicky spoke now. “Isn’t that Mr. Dodson—Mr. Ralph Dodson?” she asked quietly.
“Miss Lowell! What are you doing here?”
“I might ask that about you, Mr. Dodson,” she retorted. “I’m going with Mr. McClintock and Mr. Budd to Carson. Haven’t you heard that two ruffians tried to murder Colonel McClintock?” Her voice rang out like a bell. It accused him, if not of conspiracy to murder, at least of aiding and abetting the escape of the murderer.
After just an instant’s hesitation Dodson spoke gravely. “Yes, I’ve heard, Miss Lowell. Believe me, I have been greatly distressed. If there’s anything I can do——”
“You can help us bring to justice the desperado who escaped,” she cried hotly.
Dodson chose his words with care. He knew they were likely to be reported by some of his men to the gang at Piodie. “If someone got into a quarrel with Colonel McClintock and——”
“They didn’t get into a quarrel with him,” Vicky flung out indignantly. “They crept up behind him and shot him down while he wasn’t looking. Even rattlesnakes give warning. These reptiles didn’t.”