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Updated: June 16, 2025
She had already laid her plans and she would stick to them. And while she hesitated, discussing these things in her mind, a figure afoot came down the slope toward the ford and the campfire. It was Ratty M'Gill, walking as though already footsore, and with his saddle and accoutrements on his shoulder. The high-heeled boots worn by cowpunchers are not easy footwear to walk in.
"You showed what sort of stuff you were made of, young man," said the Captain, thoughtfully, "at that very time. Maybe you've got something to thank that Pete for." "And Ratty M'Gill?" asked Pratt, smiling. "Poor Ratty!" said Frances again. "He's gone down to the Pecos country," said the Captain, briskly. "Best place for him.
Two allied companies were incorporated the Atlantic and St Lawrence to build the United States section of the railway, and the St Lawrence and Atlantic to build from Montreal to the border. The St Lawrence and Atlantic was a valuable medium of experience, if not of traffic. In its management were found the leading business men of Montreal, such as Moffat, M'Gill, Molson, Stayner, and Torrance.
The fellow's greed had started him upon the quest of the treasure so long in Captain Rugley's care. Perhaps he had known Ratty M'Gill before; it seemed so. And yet, Ratty did not seem entirely in the confidence of the robber. Nevertheless, Ratty must leave the ranch. Frances was determined upon this.
"It will make fifteen at table," said the practical Frances, thinking hard of the resources of the household. "That's all right. I'll get in the Reposa boys to help San Soo and Ming." "Victorino, too?" asked his daughter, curiously. "Yes," declared the Captain, stoutly. "He's sorry he mixed up with Ratty M'Gill. Vic isn't a bad boy.
He was the oldest of the Mexican boys employed at the Bar-T, and he had been very friendly with Ratty M'Gill while that reckless individual had belonged to the outfit. It was Victorino who had let Ratty drive the buckboard to the railroad station one particular day when the cowpuncher wished to meet his friend, Pete, at Cottonwood Bottom.
Whatever she did in this matter, as well as in the affair of Ratty M'Gill, must be done without advice. Her mind slanted toward Pratt Sanderson at this time. Had her father not seemed to suspect the young fellow from Amarillo, Frances would surely have taken Pratt into her confidence.
The reckless cowpuncher, Ratty M'Gill, riding up the bank of the narrow stream through the cottonwoods, and singing a careless song at the top of his voice, was what gave Pratt Sanderson the final suggestion that there was something down stream that he ought to look into. Frances had gone that way; Ratty was riding back. Had they met, or passed, on the river bank?
But when Frances looked over her shoulder after a minute, Ratty M'Gill still remained on the trail, as though undecided whether to follow or not. It was not until later that Frances was disturbed by the thought that Pratt was suspected by her father of having a strong curiosity regarding the Spanish treasure chest. "And here he has forced his company upon me," thought the girl.
John cocked his cudgel and stood between us, threatening to knock the one dead who first offered to lift his hand against the other; but, perceiving no disposition in any of us to separate, he drove me home before him like a bullock, and keeping close guard behind me, lest M'Gill had followed.
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