'Tell me about it,' he commanded sternly. 'What did you tell her?'
'Everything,' returned the bewildered college man. 'Why shouldn't I? She promised not to say anything.'
'Oh, hell!' he muttered and turned away. But he came back and explained quietly. 'She's as crooked as a dog's hind leg; she's running neck and neck, fifty-fifty, with Jim Courtot and Monte Devine on all kinds of deals--Come on. We've got to burn the earth getting back to Big Run. We'll beat 'em to it yet.'
'Wait a minute, Al,' called Lee softly. 'Let's get all the dope first. You say, Mr. Longstreet, that you filed on your claim all right?'
Longstreet began to flounder and half-way through his recital bogged down helplessly. He had met Sanchia Murray, had gone with her to the Montezuma House, had seen Mr. Bates there----
'What sort of a looking gent is this Mr. Bates?' quizzed Pony Lee sharply.
'A short man, dark, black moustaches----'
'Recognize the picture, Al? She steered him right into Monte to fix his papers! Well, by God!'
His expression was one of pure admiration. In his mind Sanchia Murray had risen to undreamed of heights--heights of impudence, but none the less daring. He could see the coup in all of its brilliance. But not so Howard.
'We saw her leave a letter at the hotel in Big Run!' he cried out. He was half-way to the door. 'She had the hunch then. By now Courtot and Devine and the rest are in the saddles, if they are not, some of them, already squatting on the job at Last Ridge! I'm on my way. Pony, come alive. Chase over to the court-house; take Longstreet with you and file on the claim if it isn't too late.'
As his last words came back to them he was out on the street and running. He knew within himself that it was too late. They would find that Sanchia or one of her crowd had already visited Harkness's office. Well, that was one thing; the other was to take possession. His boots clattered loudly upon the echoing board sidewalk and men came out to look after him.
He came to his horse in front of the hotel, snatched the tie-rope loose and went up into the saddle without bothering about the spurs hanging over the horn. His horse plunged under him and in another moment horse and rider were racing, even as Sanchia Murray's white mare had carried her, out toward Big Run.