Garnett let Harry go to her brother's cell alone. As the door clicked, the light flashed up and flooded the narrow, whitewashed room. Rob turned from the window where he had been standing. "Hello, sis!" he said listlessly. "Just get in?" "Bobs, dear! You poor thing! Isn't this horrible?" She ran to him, slid her hand through his arm and kissed him. "You look as if you had been ill!" she exclaimed, looking up at him anxiously. "I do feel seedy." He passed a hand over his unshaven cheek and glanced down at his rumpled clothes. "Being shut up here without a change of clothes for several days is the limit. Did you bring that bill of sale?" "Yes, here it is." She handed him the paper. Rob glanced at it, and then put it into his pocket. "If I'd only had that along the other day when that chump pinched me! Smarty! I'd like to have him fined for false arrest--putting me in here!" "Why, Bobs! He didn't know you were all right. He'd never seen you before. He had to do it; but he's awfully sorry." "He is? How do you know?" "He told me so. He drove me over here. If it hadn't been for him, I'd probably be wandering round in the hills or lying at the bottom of that awful cañon on the edge of the road." She went on to tell him about her journey and her talk with Garnett. "He's outside now, Bob," she said, a little timidly, for Rob's face had darkened. "He wants to see you and have you tell him who Jones is and where he got those horses." "I don't want to see him. And I've nothing to say about Jones." "But, Bobs, if you don't tell how Jones came to have Garnett's horse, they'll simply hunt up Jones and _make_ him tell. Won't you see Garnett? I've already convinced him that you were only boarding the colts for Jones, and Garnett's really our friend now, only of course he wants to clear this matter up. I wish you'd talk frankly with him, Rob, dear." "I like that! Maybe he's forgotten I tried to explain things the day he ran me in." "But you didn't tell him where Jones got his horse. He's going out to-morrow to hunt up Jones and bring him here to prove that those horses are his." "But they're not. They're mine." "Yours!" Harry cried, falling back a step. "That's what this bill of sale is. I bought every one of those colts from Jones." "But, Rob, where _did_ Jones get Garnett's horse? He never sold it." "Don't ask me. There comes Pedersen. You'll have to go now." "And you won't see Garnett? Please, Rob! He's really our friend. Oh, yes, and another thing. I was telling him about that herder, Boykin, and he says my description of him exactly fits a herder of Joyce's named Hunter, who is in jail here. I think Garnett suspects that they are the same man, and he seems to think it may make a lot of difference to us. I don't quite see how, do you?" Rob's expression changed. "It would make a lot of difference to me to know that Boykin was in the jug."