She did not saddle the horse at once. She first searched the
pile of sweet-smelling clover in the far end, made sure that no
man was there, assured herself in the same manner of the fact
that she was absolutely alone in the stable so far as humans were
concerned, and continued her search; not for Saunders now, but
for sagebrush. She went outside, and looked carefully at her
immediate surroundings.
"There's hardly a root of it anywhere around close," she said to
herself. "Nor around the store, either--nor any place where one
would be apt to go ordinarily."
She stood there meditatively for a few minutes, remembered that
two hours do not last long, and saddled hurriedly. Then,
mounting awkwardly because of the large, lumpy bag of candy
which she must carry in her hands for want of a pocket large
enough to hold it, she rode away to the Indian camp.
The camp was merely a litter of refuse and the ashes of various
campfires, with one wikiup standing forlorn in the midst.
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