She watched those two until they were hidden in one of the million or so of little “draws” or arroyos that wrinkle the face of the range west.  When she finally gave up hope of seeing them again, she moved the glasses slowly to the west.  Midway of the arc, she saw something that was more than suspicious; it was out-and-out mysterious.

She saw something—­what it was she could not guess—­moving slowly in the direction of Sinkhole Camp,—­something wide and queer looking, with a horseman on either side and with a team pulling.  Here again the distance was too great to reveal details.  She strained her eyes, changed the focus hopefully, blurred the image, and slowly turned the little focusing wheel back again.  She had just one more clear glimpse of the thing before it, too, disappeared.

Mary V waited and waited, and watched the place.  If it was crossing a gully, it would climb out again, of course.  When it did not do so she lost all patience and was putting the glasses in their case when she saw a speck crawling along a level bit, half a mile or so to the left of where she had been watching.

“Darn!” said Mary V, and hastened to readjust the glasses.  But she had no more than seen that it was the very same mysterious object, only now it was not wide at all, but very long—­when it crawled behind a ridge like a caterpillar disappearing behind a rock.  Mary V waited awhile, but it did not show itself.  So she cried with vexation and nervous exhaustion, stamped her foot, and made the emphatic assertion that she felt like shooting Johnny Jewel for making her come all this long way to be driven raving distracted.

After a little, when the mysterious thing still failed to reappear anywhere on the face of the gray-mottled plain, she ate what was left of her lunch and rode home, too tired to sit up straight in the saddle.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THIEVES RIDE BOLDLY

Johnny Jewel heaved his weary bones off his bed and went stiffly to answer the ’phone.  Reluctantly as well, for he had not yet succeeded in formulating an excuse for his absence that he dared try on old Sudden Selmer.  Excuses had seemed so much less important when temptation was plucking at his sleeve that almost any reason had seemed good enough.  But now when the bell was jingling at him, no excuse seemed worth the breath to utter it.  So Johnny’s face was doleful, and Johnny’s red-rimmed eyes were big and solemn.

And then, when he had braced himself for the news that he was jobless, all he heard was this: 

“Hello!  How’s everything?”

“All right,” he answered dully to that.  So far as he knew, everything was all right—­save himself.

“Feed holding out all right in the pasture?” came next.  And when Johnny said that it was:  “Well, say!  If you get time, you might ride up and get one or two of these half-broke bronks and ride ’em a little.  The boys have got a few here now that’s pretty well gentled, and they’re workin’ on a fresh bunch.  The quieter they are, the better price they’ll bring, and they won’t have time to ride ’em all.  You can handle one or two all right, can’t yuh?”