Brand Blotters

She thought she could reason out what McKinstra and the stage-driver would

do. Mesa was twenty-five miles distant, the "Monte Cristo" mine seventeen.

Nearer than these points there was no telephone station except the one at

the Lee ranch. Their first thought would be to communicate with Morse,

with the officers at Mammoth, and with the sheriff of Mesa County. To do

this as soon as possible they would turn aside and drive to the ranch

after they reached the bottom of the hill and could make the turn. It was

a long, steep hill, and Melissy estimated that this would give her a start

of nearly twenty minutes. She would save about half a mile by following

the ditch instead of the road, but at best she knew she was drawing it

very fine.

She never afterward liked to think of that drive home. It seemed to her

that Bob crawled and that the heavy sand was interminable. Feverishly she

plied the whip, and when at length she drew out of the ditch she sent her

horse furiously round the big corral. Though she had planned everything to

the last detail, she knew that any one of a hundred contingencies might

spoil her plan. A cowpuncher lounging about the place would have ruined

everything, or at best interfered greatly. But the windmill clicked over

sunlit silence, empty of life. No stir or movement showed the presence of

any human being.

Melissy drove round to the side door, dumped out the treasure-box, ran

into the house, and quickly returned with a hammer and some tacks, then

fell swiftly to ripping the oilcloth that covered the box which stood

against the wall to serve as a handy wash-stand for use by dusty

travellers before dining. The two boxes were of the same size and shape,

and she draped the treasure chest with the cloth, tacked it in place,

restored to the top of it the tin basin, and tossed the former wash-stand

among a pile of old boxes from the store, that were to be used for

kindling. After this she ran upstairs, scudded softly along the corridor,

and silently unlocked the cook's door, dropping the key on the floor to

make it appear as if something had shaken it from the keyhole. Presently

she was in her brother's room, doffing his clothes and dressing herself in

her own.

A glance out of the window sapped the color from her cheek, for she saw

the stage breasting the hill scarce two hundred yards from the house. She

hurried downstairs, pinning her belt as she ran, and flashed into the

store, where Jim sat munching peanuts.