"Yes," she admitted, and the tremor of the lips told him that she depended upon him to work out the problem. His heart swelled with glad pride at the thought.
"That man who jus' passed is my friend," he told her. "He's trailin' that duck Shorty. Like as not we'll find out what's stirrin'."
"I'll go with you," the girl said, vivid lips parted in anticipation.
"No, you go home. This is a man's job. Soon as I find out anything I'll let you know."
"You'll come, no matter what time o' night it is," she pleaded.
"Yes," he promised.
Her firm little hand rested a moment in his brown palm. "I'm depending on you," she murmured in a whisper lifted to a low wail by a stress of emotion.
CHAPTER VI
BY WAY OF A WINDOW
The trail of rice led down Mission Street, turned at Junipero, crossed into an alley, and trickled along a dusty road to the outskirts of the frontier town.