In silence Doubler suffered him to approach, though he kept his rifle ready in his hand and his eyes still continued to wear a belligerent expression.
“You and me ain’t been what you might call friendly for a long time,” offered Duncan when he had halted a few feet from Doubler. “We’ve had words, but I’ve never tried to take any mean advantage of you—which I might have done if I’d wanted to.” He smiled ingratiatingly.
“We ain’t goin’ to go over what’s happened between us,” declared Doubler coldly. “We’re lettin’ that go by. If you’ll stick to the palaver that you spoke about mebbe we’ll be able to git along for a minute or two. Meanwhile, you’ll excuse me if I keep this here gun in shape for you if you try any monkey business.”
Duncan masked his dislike of Doubler under a deprecatory smile. “That’s right,” he agreed. “We’ll let what’s happened pass without talking about it. What’s between us now is something different. I’ve never pretended to be your friend, and I’m not pretending to be your friend now. But I’ve always been square with you, and I’m square now. Can you say that about him?” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the river trail, on which Dakota had vanished some time before.
“Him?” inquired Doubler. “You mean Dakota?” He caught Duncan’s nod and smiled slowly. “I reckon you’re some off your range,” he said. “There ain’t no comparin’ Dakota to you—he’s always been my friend.”
“A man’s got a friend one day and he’s an enemy the next,” said Duncan mysteriously.
“Meanin’?”
“Meaning that Dakota ain’t so much of a friend as you think he is.”
Doubler’s lips grew straight and hard. “I reckon that ends the palaver,” he said coldly, while he fingered the rifle in his hand significantly. “If that’s what you come for you can be hittin’ the breeze right back to the Double R. I’m givin’ you——”
“You’re traveling too fast,” remonstrated Duncan, a hoarseness coming into his voice. “You’ll talk different when you hear what I’ve got to say. I reckon you know that Langford ain’t any friendly to you?”