When Haydon rode close to them he halted his horse and sat in the saddle, an expression of cold inquiry on his face. His smile at Miss Barbara was a trifle forced; his glance at Harlan had a fair measure of frank dislike and suspicion in it.
Harlan deliberately turned his back toward Barbara and Haydon when the latter dismounted; walked a little distance, and pretended to be interested in a snubbing post in the corral.
Yet he cast furtive glances toward the two, and when he saw the girl reaching into a pocket for the section of chain he had given her, he slowly sauntered forward, and was within hearing distance when Barbara spoke to Haydon.
“I was to give you this,” she said—and she extended a hand toward Haydon, the chain dangling from her fingers.
Harlan saw Haydon’s muscles leap and become tense. He saw the man’s color go, saw his cheeks whiten; observed that his eyes widened and gleamed with mingled astonishment and alarm.
He regained control of himself instantly, however, but Harlan had seen enough to strengthen his convictions, and he grinned as Haydon flashed a sharp glance at him.
Barbara, too, had noted the strange light in Haydon’s eyes; she had seen that Haydon had seemed about to shrink from the chain when she held it out to him. She looked from Haydon to Harlan inquiringly and when her glance again returned to Haydon he was smiling.
However, he had not taken the chain from her hand.
“Is it yours?” she asked.
“Yes—mine,” he answered, hesitatingly. “Where did you find it?”