an oak bow of the wagon top, which obviously was where the occupant kept her rifle. There was a tiny stove by the door and a cupboard beside it, the shelves of which were crowded with books whose titles made the sheriff's eyes open. A Latin grammar, a Roman history, the "Story of the French Revolution," mythology, and many others that might as well have been Greek for all the meaning their titles conveyed to the deputy.
"Whew!" he whistled softly. He had no idea that Mormon Joe's Kate had any education. He had the impression that she was, in his own phraseology, "a tough customer." Mormon Joe must have taught her, he reflected. There never was any doubt about his learning when it suited him to display it. The discovery increased the sheriff's curiosity to see the girl.
Continuing his investigations, he opened one of the drawers that pulled out from beneath the bunk, and closed it hastily—but not too soon to see that the undergarments it contained were made of flour sacks which had been ripped, laundered and fashioned clumsily by a hand unused to sewing. In the drawer on the other side there were clippings giving recipes for improving the complexion, hair treatments, care of the teeth and nails, and other aids to beauty.
Lingle smiled as he glanced at them. Evidently she had traits that were distinctly feminine. In addition, there were writing materials and a packet of letters addressed in a masculine hand that looked unformed and youthful. They were tied with a pink ribbon, and had the appearance of having been read frequently. Lingle fingered the packet uncertainly and then threw it back in the drawer impatiently.
"Thunder!" he muttered, "I ain't paid to snoop through a woman's letters."
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