She shook her head, unconvinced. "Have you been to visit me?" she enquired.
Yorky's thin cheeks reddened. "Naw, I jus' wanted ter see yer home."
"And what do you think of it?"
"Betche'd be happier at the Circle Dot," was the unexpected answer.
It was now her turn to colour up, though afterwards she could not imagine any reason for so doing. There was a trace of reproof in her reply. "Thank you, but I am quite comfortable."
Yorky was not slow-witted; he saw that he had displeased her. "I warn't meanin' ter be rude," he apologized, and looked so downcast that she had to smile again.
"And I wasn't meaning to be cross," she said. "So we'll both forget it. Why did you leave the dance so early; weren't you having a good time?"
"The best ever, an' that goes for all of us." He was itching to get away; the trip had taken much longer than he hadthought, and the sooner his news was told, the better. He did not realize the full import of what he had learned, but it was plain that a train was to be robbed and the plunder used to obtain the Circle Dot, though how that was to be done without the present owner's consent was beyond his comprehension.
"Including Mister Dover?" she asked.
"I didn't hear no complaints."
"I think he might have let the men stay a little longer," she persisted.
"Dan's young, but he knows his job," Yorky said loyally--even this lovely girl must not find fault with his boss. He fidgeted in his saddle. "Guess I oughter be goin'; I bin out all day, an' th' boys'll be worryin' ;.I ain't wise ter th' country-- yet."
"Running away from me again?" she teased. "Well, so long, Yorky, it is my turn to visit you now, and perhaps I will."
He snatched off his hat as she moved on, and it might have pleased her to know that it was probably the first time he had paid this tribute to a woman.
Splashing through the ford, he thumped his unspurred heels against Shut-eye's well-padded ribs in an effort to extract a little more speed from that lethargic but easy-going quadruped.
"Yer got four legs, pal--I've counted 'em--use every damn one," he urged. "If we'd met up with a Wagon-wheeler 'stead o' her ..."
He reached the ranch without further interruption, and was unsaddling at the corral when Tiny and Blister rode up.
" 'Lo, kid, Noo York glad to see you?" the former asked.
"I didn't git as fur, but Rainbow is warmin' up fer th' weddin'."
The big man swallowed the bait. "What weddin'?"
"Yourn an' th' school-marm's," Yorky cackled, and dodging Tiny's grab, made for the ranch-house. Blister's bellow of laughter followed him.
He entered by the back door, and the cook--noting the flushed, excited face--was moved to comment. "Phwat hey ye been up to, ye young divil, an' how much grub has passed yer lips the day?"
"Oh, hell, Paddy. Where's Jim?"
"In th' front room with Dan an'--Saints, he's gone."
The impetuosity which took him from the kitchen caused him to burst unceremoniously upon the three men. They stared at him in silence for a moment, and then the rancher said quietly:
"I didn't hear you knock, Yorky."
"I'm sorry, Boss, but 1 got noos, an' it won't keep."
"Take a seat an' tell us," Dan replied.
It came out with a rush. Ten minutes later they had heard the story of his adventure, minus the meeting with Miss Trenton, and were regarding the narrator with stunned astonishment. Sudden read the minds of his companions.
"Is this the truth, Yorky, or one o' those fine tales yu sometimes invent to amuse the boys?" he wanted to know.
"Cross me heart, it's true, Jim," came the instant reply.
"An' there is a ten-fifteen--I've travelled by it a good few times--a little train, made up like he said," Dan stated.
"Well, it shore beats the band," Burke said. "Garstone an' Bundy double-crossin' Trenton; that's a laugh I'll enjoy."
"I guess not, Bill," Dan said. "We've gotta stop it. With that cash they can make a deal with Maitland, an' we're ditched. They wouldn't buy till the hold-up was stale news, or Garstone would claim to have raised funds East. Oh, it's smart, an' I never suspected Bundy o' brains."
"There's more to him than folks aroun' here savvy," the foreman replied. "Have you noticed that he never wears a glove on his right hand?"
"Gunman, huh?" Sudden said. "An' advertises it. Shucks!"
Dover, remembering the shooting in Sandy Bend, understood the puncher's disdain, and smiled, but his face was soon sober again.
"Question is, what are we to do?" he asked. "If we tell the sheriff, he'll just laugh at us, an' that's all; so would Trenton. We don't know who is sendin' the money so a warnin' ain't possible neither."
"Take some o' the boys an' catch 'em in the act," Burke suggested.
"One of 'em might get away with the booty, an' Foxy would turn 'em loose anyway. What's the joke, Jim?"
For Sudden's eyes were twinkling like those of a, mischievous boy. "Just an idea," he said, and went on to tell them what it was; in a few moments they were laughing too. "Gee! it'd be a great play to make," Dan chuckled. "But could we pull it off?"
"I'm sayin' we can," Sudden replied confidently. "Why not have a shot at it--just the three of us."
"Say, ain't I in on this, Jim?" Yorky ventured to ask. "I could hold th' hosses."
Sudden's shake of the head was definite. "No, yu've done yore share, an' we're all mighty obliged, but there'll be a lot o' hard an' fast ridin' to-morrow mornin'. Time'll come when yu can keep up with the best of us; just now, patience is yore strong suit. An' mind, not a word."
"I get yer, Jim," the boy replied. "I'm a clam."
Chapter X
Early next morning the three conspirators devoured a substantial breakfast, saddled their mounts and, in the grey light of the dawn, disappeared in the direction of Sandy Bend. They did not follow the regular trail, having no desire to be observed, or to visit the town itself. This meant a loss of time and speed, but was necessary, since to run into the Wagon-wheel men would be fatal to the success of their plan.
Leaving the Circle Dot range at the eastern limit, they plunged into an almost trackless waste of broken country, the natural difficulties of which made anything in the nature of a direct course impossible, but all three were expert in the art of breaking a trail, and having started in good time there was no need to force the pace.
The foreman led the way, and though they were often driven wide of their line, his sense of direction brought them back to it. Nature was awake, birds whistled and called, and in the undergrowth they could hear the stealthy movements of unseen denizens of the woods. Riding in single file, they spoke seldom; each of them was dwelling on the part he had to play; a slip might result in unpleasant consequences. The morning air felt chill on their faces, but the slowly-mounting sun would soon bring more heat than was comfortable.
At the end of several hours, the leader called a halt and got down. Pointing to a sharp ridge on their right, he said:
"Oughta be able to git a glimp o' the Bend from up there. I'll take a peep--better he shore than sorry."
He trudged away, and they presently saw him come into view on the peak of the height. He was soon back, a grin of satisfaction on his face. He waved a hand to the right.
"The Bend is over there, so we're pointin' slap on the target," he said, and with a glance at his watch, "Time a-plenty, too."
"An' it's a good place for the purpose, is it, Bill?" Dover queried.
"Couldn't 'a' found a better if I'd bin Jesse James hisself," Burke assured him.
Another five miles brought them to a small forest of pines, and threading their way through the slim, straight trunks they came to a strip of thick bush, on the other side of which ran a single line of railroad. They pulled up where the matted foliage of the trees afforded deep shadow.