"But the trail ends here," pointed out Rance, at the same time looking
hard at the Girl. "And if she hasn't seen him, where was he going?"

At this juncture Nick espied a cigar butt on the floor; unseen by the
others, he hurriedly picked it up and threw it in the fire.

"One o' our dollar Havanas! Good Lord, he's here!" he muttered to
himself.

"Rance is right. Where was he goin'?" was the question with which he was
confronted by Sonora when about to return to the others.

"Well, I tho't I seen him," evaded Nick with considerable uneasiness. "I
couldn't swear to it. You see it was dark, an'--Moses but the Sidney
Duck's a liar!"

At length, Ashby decided that the man had in all probability been snowed
under, ending confidently with:

"Something scared him off and he lit out without his horse." Which
remark brought temporary relief to the Girl, for Nick, watching her, saw
the colour return to her face.

Unconsciously, during this discussion, the Girl had risen to her feet,
but only to fall back in her chair again almost as suddenly, a sign of
nervousness which did not escape the sharp eye of the Sheriff.

"How do you know the man's a road agent?" A shade almost of contempt was
in the Girl's question.

Sonora breathed on his badly nipped fingers before answering:

"Well, two greasers jest now were pretty positive before they quit."

Instantly the Girl's head went up in the air.

"Greasers!" she ejaculated scornfully, while her eyes unfalteringly met
Rance's steady gaze.

"But the woman knew him," was the Sheriff's vindictive thrust.

The Girl started; her face went white.

"The woman--the woman d'you say?"

"Why, yes, it was a woman that first tol' them that Ramerrez was in the
camp to rob The Polka," Sonora informed her, though his tone showed
plainly his surprise at being compelled to repeat a thing which, he
wrongly believed, she already knew.

"We saw her at The Palmetto," leered Rance.

"And we missed the reward," frowned Ashby; at which Rance quickly turned
upon the speaker with:

"But Ramerrez is trapped."

There was a moment's startled pause in which the Girl struggled with her
passions; at last, she ventured:

"Who's this woman?"

The Sheriff laughed discordantly.

"Why, the woman of the back trail," he sneered.

"Nina Micheltorena! Then she does know 'im--it's true--it goes through
me!" unwittingly burst from the Girl's lips.

The Sheriff, evidently, found the Situation amusing,