Linton’s eyes were glowing, he crowded close to Harlan, so close that his body touched Harlan’s, and he stood thus for an instant, breathing fast. Then, noting the unwavering, genial gleam in Harlan’s eyes—a visible sign of Harlan’s knowledge of his deep emotion—Linton seized one of the other’s hands and gripped it tightly.
“Damn your hide,” he said, lowly, “you had me goin’. I’m dead set on seein’ that girl git a square deal, an’ when I saw you makin’ a play for them damned outlaws that are in the outfit, I sure figured there’d be hell a-poppin’ around the Rancho Seco. You sure had me flabbergasted when you named me foreman, for I couldn’t anticipate your trail none.
“But I reckon I’m wised up, now. You’re goin’ to run a whizzer in on ’em—playin’ ’em for suckers. An’ I’m your right-hand man—stickin’ with you until hell runs long on icebergs!”
CHAPTER XIV
SHADOWS
A desire to ride once more in the peaceful sunshine of the land she loved was one of the first indications that Barbara was recovering from the shock occasioned by her father’s death. For two or three days she had not stirred from her room, except to go downstairs to cook her meals. She had spent much of her time sitting at a window nursing her sorrow.
But on this morning she got out of bed feeling more composed than usual, with several new emotions struggling for the mastery. One of those emotions was that of intolerance.
Harlan’s assumption of authority enraged her. He had come to the Rancho Seco with no credentials other than his mere word that her father had forced him to promise to “take hold” of “things.” And she intended, this very morning, to send Harlan away, and to assume control of the ranch herself.