"Sure," answered the Ranger.
An hour later, they were back. They had found the old home under the giant
sycamores, on the edge of the little clearing, dark and untenanted.
Lights were shining, now, from the windows of the Carleton ranch-house.
Down at the corral, the twinkling gleam of a lantern bobbed here and
there. As the Ranger and his companion drew near, the lantern came rapidly
up the hill. At the porch, they were met by Henry Carleton, his two sons,
and a ranch hand. As the four stood in the light of the window, and of the
lantern on the porch, listening to Brian Oakley's report, each held the
bridle-reins of a saddle-horse.
"I figured that the chance of her being up there was so mighty slim that
we'd better be ready to ride when you got back," said the mountain
ranchman. "What's your program, Brian?" Thus simply he put himself and his
household in command of the Ranger.
The officer turned to the eldest son, "Jack, you've got the fastest horse
in the outfit. I want you to go down to the Power-House and find out if
any one there saw Sibyl anywhere on the road. You see," he explained to
the group, "we don't know for sure, yet, that she came into the mountains.
Pages:
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410