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Updated: May 14, 2025
The secret of the second chest was known only to Frances herself and the two Chinamen. Anybody who entered the great hall of the hacienda saw that one, as Ratty had, standing ready for removal. The one in Captain Rugley's room was covered by the blanket and looked like an ordinary divan. Frances believed San Soo and Ming were to be trusted.
She used some of the money to buy books and a piano and pay for a teacher for the latter to come to the ranch, while she spent much midnight oil studying the books by herself. Captain Rugley's health was not all it should have been. Frances could not now leave him for long. Until recently the old ranchman had borne lightly his seventy years.
On the day after Gates arrived at Rugley's Mills, he received an express from Sumter, stating that a number of the militia of South Carolina had joined him on the west side of the Wateree, and that an escort of clothes, ammunition, and other stores for the garrison at Camden was on its way from Ninety-Six and must pass the Wateree at a ford covered by a small fort nor far from Camden.
She knew this to be a fact, for when Pratt Sanderson had ridden over from the Edwards Ranch to inquire after Captain Rugley's health, the old ranchman had sent out a courteously worded refusal to see Pratt. "I'm not so awfully fond of that young chap," the Captain said, reflectively, at the time. "And seems to me, Frances, he's mighty curious about my health." "But, Daddy!"
Bill Edwards saw nothing out of the way in Captain Rugley's hands lounging up to the hacienda to talk. Most of them were young fellows of neighboring families, and quite as well known as were the visitors themselves. Sue Latrop's amazement at this familiarity only made the other girls laugh.
A director had come on from the film company to stage the show; but the story as developed was strictly in accordance with Frances Rugley's "plans and specifications." "She's a wonder, that little girl," declared the professional. "She'd make her mark as a scenario writer no doubt of that. I'd like to get her for our company; but they say her father is one of the richest men in the Panhandle."
Instead of seeing only José Reposa or one of the other Mexicans hanging about, here was a row of punchers roosting along the top rail of the corral fence, and evidently so much interested in what was going on in the enclosure that they did not notice the approach of Captain Rugley's daughter.
Frances did not mind for herself; but she saw that the girl from Boston seemed amused by Captain Rugley's talk, and was not well-bred enough to conceal her amusement. The old ranchman was not dull in any particular, however; before long he found an opportunity to say to his daughter: "Who's the girl in the fancy fixin's? That red coat's got style to it, I reckon?"
Pratt found it hard to get into conversation with her on any but the most ephemeral subjects. For instance, when he hinted about Captain Rugley's adventures on the Border: "Your father is a very interesting talker. He has seen and done so much." "Yes," said Frances. "And how adventurous his life must have been! I'd love to get him in a story-telling mood some day."
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.
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