Part 52 (1/2)
”Over the trail? Across the divide?”
”Yes.”
”Were you in the raid this morning?”
”What raid? I don't know of any raid.”
He knew she was lying, but he only said, ”When did you leave home?”
”Three days ago.”
”Where have you been?”
”In camp.”
”Where?”
She pointed up the stream.
”How long have you been acquainted with this man Busby?”
Here he struck upon something stubborn and hard in the girl's nature.
She refused to reply.
”When were you over here last?”
A warning word from Busby denoted that he understood the course of the ranger's questioning and was anxious to strengthen her resistance.
Hanscom had several hours in which to ponder, and soon arrived at a fairly accurate understanding of the whole situation. He remembered vaguely the report of a row between Watson and Busby, and he was aware of the reckless cruelty of the dead man. It might be that in revenge for some savagery on his part, some graceless act toward Rita, this moody, half-insane youth had crept upon the rancher and killed him.
He turned to young Kitsong. ”I haven't seen you lately. Where have you been?”
”Over on the Porcupine.”
”Working on Gonzales's ranch?”
”Yes, part of the time.”
”Does your father know you are back in the valley?”
”No--yes, he does, too!”
”You fired that shot that killed the horse, didn't you?”
Young Kitsong betrayed anxiety. ”I don't know what you are talking about.”
”Which of you rode the blaze-faced sorrel?”
In spite of himself the boy glanced quickly at the girl, who shook her head.