Behind him he heard the hum of an approaching motor, and he turned
to behold a car racing along the road he had just traveled. The
machine was running fast, as a long streamer of choking dust gave
evidence, and Dave soon recognized it as belonging to Jonesville's
prosecuting attorney. As it tore past him its owner shouted
something, but the words were lost. In the automobile with the
driver were several passengers, and one of these likewise called
to Dave and seemed to motion him to follow. When the machine
slowed down a half-mile ahead and veered abruptly into the Las
Palmas gateway, Dave lifted Montrosa to a run, wondering what
pressing necessity could have induced the prosecuting attorney to
risk such a reckless burst of speed.
Dave told himself that he was unduly apprehensive; that Strange's
warnings had worked upon his nerves. Nevertheless, he continued to
ride so hard that almost before the dust had settled he, too,
turned into the shade of the palms.
Yes, there was excitement here; something was evidently very much
amiss, judging from the groups of ranch-hands assembled upon the
porch. They were clustered about the doors and windows, peering
in.
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