would be to communicate with Morse,
with the officers at Mammoth, and with the sheriff of Mesa County. To do
this as soon as possible they would turn aside and drive to the ranch
after they reached the bottom of the hill and could make the turn. It was
a long, steep hill, and Melissy estimated that this would give her a start
of nearly twenty minutes. She would save about half a mile by following
the ditch instead of the road, but at best she knew she was drawing it
very fine.

She never afterward liked to think of that drive home. It seemed to her
that Bob crawled and that the heavy sand was interminable. Feverishly she
plied the whip, and when at length she drew out of the ditch she sent her
horse furiously round the big corral. Though she had planned everything to
the last detail, she knew that any one of a hundred contingencies might
spoil her plan. A cowpuncher lounging about the place would have ruined
everything, or at best interfered greatly. But the windmill clicked over
sunlit silence, empty of life. No stir or movement showed the presence of
any human being.

Melissy drove round to the side door, dumped out the treasure-box, ran
into the house, and quickly returned with a hammer and some tacks, then
fell swiftly to ripping the oilcloth that covered the box which stood
against the wall to serve as a handy wash-stand for use by dusty
travellers before dining. The two boxes were of the same size and shape,
and she draped the treasure chest with the cloth, tacked it in place,
restored to the top of it the tin basin, and tossed the former wash-stand
among a pile of old boxes from the store, that were to be used for
kindling. After this she ran upstairs, scudded softly along the corridor,
and silently unlocked the cook's door, dropping the key on the floor to
make it appear as if something had shaken it from the keyhole. Presently
she was in her brother's room, doffing his clothes and dressing herself in
her own.

A glance out of the window sapped the color from her cheek, for she saw
the stage breasting the hill scarce two hundred yards from the house. She
hurried downstairs, pinning her belt as she ran, and flashed into the
store, where Jim sat munching peanuts.

"The stage is coming, Jim. Remember, you're not to know anything about it
at all. If they ask for Dad, say he's out cutting trail of a bunch of hill
cows. Tell them I started after the wild flowers about fifteen minutes
ago. Don't talk much about it,