“Well, yes,” replied Kendrick, after a pause. “I would rather a heap sight that only two pair of ears should hear what we’re going to say.”
“Well, what is it?”
Kate spoke calmly, yet she had a presentiment that a storm was about to burst over her head.
“Gal, you don’t play keerds of course, but I guess you understand what I mean when I tell you to play with your keerds on the table and not under it,” said the renegade, significantly.
“No,” said Kate, calmly, “I do not understand what you mean.”
“Oh, you don’t,” and the tone of the renegade was clearly one of unbelief. “Shall I speak plainer then?”
“Yes, if you wish me to understand,” Kate said, quietly.
Kendrick looked at his daughter in wonder. Her calmness staggered him.
“Well, you are a cool hand. If I wasn’t certain of my game now, I should think that, like a green dog, I was barking up the wrong tree. But the trail is too clear for me to be throw’d off.”
“What do you mean?” Neither Kate’s voice or face showed the least sign of alarm or excitement.