“Heavens! Lassiter!” panted Venters, when he caught his breath. “What relief—it’s only you! How—in the name of all that’s wonderful—did you ever get here?”
“I trailed you. We—I wanted to know where you was, if you had a safe place. So I trailed you.”
“Trailed me,” cried Venters, bluntly.
“I reckon. It was some of a job after I got to them smooth rocks. I was all day trackin’ you up to them little cut steps in the rock. The rest was easy.”
“Where’s your hoss? I hope you hid him.”
“I tied him in them queer cedars down on the slope. He can’t be seen from the valley.”
“That’s good. Well, well! I’m completely dumfounded. It was my idea that no man could track me in here.”
“I reckon. But if there’s a tracker in these uplands as good as me he can find you.”
“That’s bad. That’ll worry me. But, Lassiter, now you’re here I’m glad to see you. And—and my companion here is not a young fellow!... Bess, this is a friend of mine. He saved my life once.”
The embarrassment of the moment did not extend to Lassiter. Almost at once his manner, as he shook hands with Bess, relieved Venters and put the girl at ease. After Venters’s words and one quick look at Lassiter, her agitation stilled, and, though she was shy, if she were conscious of anything out of the ordinary in the situation, certainly she did not show it.