Part 48 (2/2)

”They've already served notice.”

He looked startled. ”What do you mean by that?”

Without answering, she went to the bookshelf and took down a folded sheet of paper. ”Here is a letter I got yesterday,” she explained, as she handed it to him.

It was a rudely penciled note, but entirely plain in its message. ”Spite of what the coroner found, most folks believe you killed Ed Watson,” it began, abruptly. ”Some of us don't blame you much. Others do, and they say no matter what the jury reports you've got to go. I don't like to see a woman abused, so you'd better take warning and pull out. Do it right away.” It was signed, ”A Friend.”

The ranger read this through twice before he spoke. ”Did this come through the mail?”

”Yes--addressed to me.”

He pretended to make light of it. ”I wouldn't spend much time over that.

It's only some smart Aleck's practical joke.”

”I don't think so,” she soberly replied. ”It reads to me like a sincere warning--from a woman. I haven't shown it to daddy yet, and I don't know whether to do so or not. I thought of going over to see you, but I was not sure of the way. I'm glad Providence sent you round to-day, for I am uncertain about what to do.”

”I'm a little uneasy about that warning myself,” he confessed, after a pause. ”I hear the Kitsong gang is bitterly dissatisfied with the result of the inquest thus far. They still insist on connecting you in some way with the shooting. Fact is, I came over to-day to see if they had made any new move.”

All the lightness had gone out of his face now, and in the girl's eyes the shadow deepened as she said:

”It seems to me that I have drawn more than my share of trouble. I came out here hoping to find a sanctuary, and I seem to have fallen into a den of wolves. These people would hang me if they could. I don't understand their hate of us. They resent our being here. Sometimes I feel as if they were only trying to drive us from our little ranch.”

”Of course, all this talk of violence is nonsense,” he vigorously went on. ”They can make you a whole lot of discomfort, but you are in no danger.”

Her glance was again remote as she said: ”I cannot take that murder case seriously. It all seems a thousand miles away from me now. And yet I am afraid for daddy's sake. Why connect me with it? Is there no other woman to accuse? Do you suppose a woman did the shooting? I don't.”

”No. I think the footprints were accidental. I figure the killing was done by some man who had it in for Watson. He was always rowing with his help, and there are two or three Mexicans who have threatened to get him. At the same time, I don't like this letter. They're a tough lot in this valley.” He mused a moment. ”Yes, I guess you'd better plan to go.”

Her gaze wandered. ”I hate to leave my garden and my flowers,” she said, sadly. ”After all, I've had some very peaceful hours in this nook.” Her face brightened. She became the genial hostess again. ”If you have finished your lunch, I wish you would come out and see my crops.”

He followed her gladly, and their talk again became cheerfully impersonal. Truly she had done wonders in a small s.p.a.ce and in a short time. Flower-beds glowed beside the towering rocks. Small ditches supplied the plants with water, and from the rich red soil luscious vegetables and fragrant blooms were springing.

All animation now, she pointed out her victories. ”This is all my work,”

she explained, proudly. ”Daddy isn't much of a hand with the spade or the hoe. Therefore I leave the riding and the cows to him. I love to paddle in the mud, and it has done me a great deal of good.”

”What will you do with all this 'truck'?”

”Daddy intends to market it in town.”

”He's away a good deal, I take it.”

”Yes, I'm alone often all day, but he's always home before dark.”

He voiced his concern. ”I don't like to think of your being alone, even in the daytime.” He spoke as one who had been swiftly advanced from stranger to trusted friend. ”I'll tell you what I'll do,” he continued, as if moved by a sudden thought. ”I'll go into camp across the creek for to-night, and then if anything goes wrong I'll be within call.”

”Oh no! Don't think of doing that! You must not neglect your duties.

Daddy is a pretty good marksman, and I have learned to handle a rifle, and, besides”--here her tone became ironic--”in the chivalrous West a woman need not fear.”

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