"The disappearance of James
Rutlidge, prominent as he was, will be heralded from one end of the world
to the other. The newspapers will make the most of it. The search is sure
to be carried into these hills, for that automobile trip in the night will
not go unquestioned, and Sheriff Walters knows too much of my suspicions.
In a few days, the body will be safely past recognition, even should it be
discovered through the buzzards. But I can't take chances of anything
durable being found to identify the man who fell over the cliff."
When he returned to them, two hours later, he said, quietly, "It's a
mighty good thing I went down. It wasn't a nice job, but I feel better. We
can forget it, now, with perfect safety. Remember"--he charged them
impressively--"even to Myra Willard and Conrad Lagrange, the story must be
only that an unknown man took you, Sibyl, from your horse. The man
escaped, when Aaron found you. We'll let the Sheriff, or whoever can,
solve the mystery of that automobile and Jim Rutlidge's disappearance."
A half mile from Granite Peak, they met Jack Carleton and, by dark, as
Brian Oakley had said, were safely down to the head of Clear Creek; having
come by routes, known to the Ranger, that were easier and shorter than the
roundabout way followed by the convict and the girl.
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