Deep in her heart Moya was not at all sure. What did she know of him?
And why should she care what he was? The man was a stranger to her.
Forty-eight hours ago she had never seen him. Why was it that every good
looking vagabond with a dash of the devil in him drew on her sympathies?
She recalled now that he had hesitated when she had mentioned his name,
no doubt making up his mind to let her think him other than he was. The
sheriff must know what he was talking about when he said the man was an
outlaw. But the appearance of him pleaded potently. Surely those clear
unflinching eyes were not the homes of villainy. Nor could she find it
possible to think his gallant grace of bearing the possession of a
miscreant.

Before the day was out her faith in him had sunk to zero. Captain
Kilmeny returned from the camp of the miners with the news that it was
deserted except for two of the deputies who had stayed to guard it
against the possible return of the robbers. He brought with him the
detailed story of the hold-up.

Two masked men on horseback had robbed the treasurer of the Gunnison
County Fair association as he was driving to the bank to deposit the
receipts of the day. The men had not been recognized, but the
description of the horses corresponded closely to those ridden by
Kilmeny and Colter. It was recalled that these two men had disappeared
as soon as the bucking broncho contest was over, not half an hour before
the robbery. This would allow them just time to return to the corral on
the outskirts of the town, where they had left their mounts, and to
saddle so as to meet the treasurer on his way to the bank. It happened
that the corral was deserted at the time, the boy in charge having left
to see the finals of the contest. Cumulative evidence of guilt lay in
the disappearance from the fishing camp not only of the two men
suspected, but also of their companions, Curly and Mosby.

"Think he really did it, Ned?" India asked her brother.

"Can't say, sis. Looks like it," he answered gloomily.

Of the party at the Lodge only one member was pleased at the turn events
had taken. Verinder's manner was as openly triumphant as he dared allow
it to become. It cried offensively, "I told you so!"

CHAPTER V

"I'M HERE, NEIGHBOR"

Moya still rode afternoons with her friends, fished occasionally, and
took her regular hand at bridge. But it was unaccountably true that her
zest in these amusements was gone. She could gi