"
"More bad news." Glass unrolled his prayer-rug, and stepped upon
it hastily. "Say, what's that word? Quick! You know! The
password. Quick!"
"Allah!"
"That's her!" The fat man began to mumble thickly. It was plain
that his spirit was utterly broken.
But this call was prompted purely by solicitude, it seemed.
Willie had little to say, and Stover, ignoring all mention of the
earlier encounter he had witnessed, exclaimed:
"There's been some queer goin's-on 'round here, Mr. Speed. Have
you noticed 'em?"
"No. What sort?"
"Well, the other mornin' I discovered some tracks through one of
Miss Jean's flower-beds."
"Tracks!"
"Sure! Strange tracks. Man's tracks."
"What does that signify?"
"We ain't altogether certain. Carara says he seen a stranger
hangin' around night before last, and jest now we found where a
hoss had been picketed out in the ravine. Looks like he'd stood
there more'n once."
"Why, this is decidedly mysterious."
"We figured we'd ought to tell you."
"It has nothing to do with me."
"I ain't sure.
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