“Don’t you make any mistake. Get him right. No need to take any chances.”
“I never missed at this distance in my life. He’s my meat.”
“Soon as you’re sure of him light out an’ come down Coyote Gulch. I got an alibi all ready for you.”
Tommie, face ashen, his knees buckling under him, crept back on all fours out of the junipers. As soon as he had reached the open sage the fear in him mastered discretion. He ran wildly, his heart pumping furiously. Fortunately, he was by that time too far away to attract the attention of the two men.
Into the schoolroom he burst and flung himself on Vicky. One glance at his face told her that he was very frightened.
“What is it, Tommie?” she asked, her arms about his shaking body.
He gasped out his news. She went white to the lips. It seemed to her for a moment that her heart stopped beating. It must be Hugh McClintock they were ambushing. She guessed they were luring him to his death by means of a forged note from her.
What could she do? She must move quickly and surely. There were two ways to town from the schoolhouse, one by the cut, the other over the hill. The assassin was lying close to the point where these paths met. She could not watch both and reach Hugh in time to save him.
Vicky did not know where Hugh was nor how to find him with a warning. Five minutes loss of time in finding him might be fatal. She thought of Ralph Dodson. Was he implicated in this? Even so, she knew he would cry back if he knew the plot was discovered. He was always at his office at this time of day, and that office was at this edge of town. If she could get word to him . . .
“Listen, Tommie,” she cried. “You know Mr. Dodson’s office—Mr. Ralph Dodson. Go to him quick as you can and tell him to come to me—right away—at the cave-in where he rescued Johnny. Tell him he must come at once—that I need him now. Understand?”