Yet Helen could not cast off uneasiness.

Roy might have been deep, and careless, with a motive to spare the girls' anxiety, but Dale seemed incapable of anything he did not absolutely mean.
"Rest or walk," he advised the girls.

"We've got forty miles to ride before dark." Helen preferred to rest, but Bo walked about, petting the horses and prying into the packs.

She was curious and eager.
Dale and Roy talked in low tones while they cleaned up the utensils and packed them away in a heavy canvas bag.
"You really expect Anson 'll strike my trail this mornin' ?" Dale was asking.
"I shore do," replied Roy.
"An' how do you figure that so soon ?" "How'd you figure it--if you was Snake Anson ?" queried Roy, in reply.
"Depends on that rider from Magdalena," Said Dale, soberly.

"Although it's likely I'd seen them wheel tracks an' hoss tracks made where we turned off.