Murray twisted around, and saw a moving object upon the desert face.
From where they were upon the hillside, it was possible to see only the
stretch of the cañon floor immediately below them; a twist in the cañon
walls hid the remainder of the road from their sight, until it came out
again upon the desert basin half a mile away. It was out there,
crawling in from the low horizon, that the moving automobile appeared.
"It's Father!" cried the girl, watching the car intently as it rapidly
drew closer to them. "It's our car! I know it because we had to put
the license plate on the right fender--oh, I'm so glad. Now
everything's all right!"
Silence fell upon them both. They watched without further speech as
the car came in toward them, and finally vanished from sight. Five
minutes later, it appeared down below in the little valley, its
cheerful thrum reverberating upon the morning silence, echoing back
from the cañon walls. But, as Claire watched, uneasiness grew in her
eyes.
There was but one man in the car, the driver. The flivver was halted
down by the shack, and its driver alighted. Murray glanced at the
girl, and read a swift flutter of fear in her eyes.
"It's not Father at all--it's Doctor Scudder!" she breathed.
"Don't worry," said Murray coolly. "I expect your father sent him
here. Ah, he's coming up! That's good."
His calm manner exerted a quieting effect upon Claire. Toward them
from the cañon climbed Doctor Scudder. As he came closer, his cheery
"Good morning!" floated to them, and both Murray and Claire made
answer. Scudder completed the climb, panting a little, and removed his
hat to wipe his brow.
"Where's Father?" exclaimed Claire eagerly.
"I'm sorry to say, Miss Lee, that he's not well," returned Scudder, his
eyes taking in each detail of the scene. "Hobbs came into town
yesterday in custody of the sheriff, and told us of the situation here.
Your father hoped to be able to come himself, but early this morning he
was taken rather ill. So I came in his place."
"Did you give him more opium?" cried the girl accusingly. Scudder's
brows lifted.
"No, I mean that he was really ill, Miss Lee. For the past two days he
has not touched the drug, and his system is not yet inured to the
deprivation. What's this, Murray--sunstroke? I hope you'll let me do
anything in my power----"
"Thanks," said Murray quietly. Instinct told him that the words of
Scudder were a tissue of lies, yet he knew that he was in need of the
man's skill. "I'd like to have a talk with you all alone. Miss Lee,
would you have any objection to leaving me and Doctor Scudder in
private for a few moments?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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