“There’s where he went in the ditch, and there’s where he came out.”
Norris forded the stream, cast a casual eye on the double track, and nodded. He was still in a fog of mystery, but the old man was already fearing the worst. 93
He gulped out his fears tremblingly. For himself, he was of a flawless nerve, but this touched nearer home than his own danger.
“Them wheel-tracks was made by my little gyurl’s runabout, Phil.”
“Good heavens!” The younger man drew rein sharply and stared at him. “You don’t think——”
He broke off, recalling the sharp, firm little foot-print on the edge of the ditch some miles below.
“I don’t reckon I know what to think. If she was in this, she’s got some good reason.” A wave of passion suddenly swept the father. “By God! I’d like to see the man that dares mix her name up in this.”
Norris met this with his friendly smile. “You can’t pick a row with me about that, old man. I’m with you till the cows come home. But that ain’t quite the way to go at this business. First thing, we’ve got to wipe out these tracks. How? Why, sheep! There’s a bunch of three hundred in that pasture. We’ll drive the bunch down to the ditch and water them here. Savez?”
“And wipe out the wheel-marks in the sand. Bully for you, Phil.”
“That’s the idea. After twelve hundred chisel feet have been over this sand I reckon the wheel-tracks will be missing.”