"Because I haven't money to get away," he said. "I'm waiting for something to turn up. If I could only get to Frisco, I would go into some business. I would like to have gone with Miles."
"Was that what you were going to propose to him, last night?" asked Tom, dryly.
"Yes, I wanted to speak to him on that subject. I had a great mind to ask him to lend me a little money, and take me along with him. I would have arranged to pay him soon after we reached Frisco."
Tom knew that the fellow was lying, and remained silent.
"You made a little mistake about my intentions," continued Bill Crane, smoothly, "but perhaps it was natural under the circumstances."
Tom thought it was, but still preserved silence, much to Crane's discomfiture.
Bill Crane eyed him sharply, and saw his incredulity, but for that he cared little, if only he could secure his silence.
"I think you will see that it isn't fair to me to speak of this matter," he continued.
"I had made up my mind not to speak of it," said Tom. "I don't want to get you into trouble."
"Good-morning, Mr. Crane," said Lawrence Peabody, who had just come up.
"Good-morning, Peabody. I was watching our friend Tom. How are you getting on?"
"I haven't done anything yet to-day. It's dirty work. I don't think it's fit for a gentleman; Tom, there, is used to work, and he don't mind."
"I am sorry Peabody doesn't keep better company," Tom said to himself. "Bill Crane won't do him any good."
Tom was right in concluding that Bill Crane's influence over Peabody was anything but good. The young Bostonian, however, was not long subjected to it. During the night following John Miles's departure, the little settlement at River Bend was called upon to deplore the loss of an eminent member.
In brief, somewhere between midnight and dawn Mr. William Crane took his departure, without the ceremony of leave-taking. Had he gone alone no one perhaps would have felt any violent sorrow, but he took with him a horse belonging to Adam Dietrich, an industrious young German, who had only recently arrived. No one had seen the two go together, but it was only natural to suppose that Crane had spirited away the horse.
Dietrich borrowed a horse, and, accompanied by a friend, set out in search of the thief, but returned at night unsuccessful. Had it been wet weather, it might have been possible to track the fugitive; but it was very dry, and the trail was soon lost. It was almost impossible to tell what direction Crane would choose, and continued pursuit would not pay, so Adam sadly returned to his work.