“Surely that lies between her and me,” he said at last.
Varley’s dark eyes flashed.
“Pardon me,” he said, with frigid courtesy. “My ward has left you; she is under my protection.”
Trafford’s eyes flashed across to the other man.
“Yes, she has left me,” he repeated; “but I am desirous of finding her, and I am going to Three Star for that purpose.”
“You will waste your time,” said Varley. “She is not there.”
“That is a lie!” said Trafford, deliberately.
Varley’s hand went to his revolver; but he checked himself, and, with a smile which would have made any man who knew him tremble, raised his hat an inch or two.
“Your grace is polite,” he said.
“I spoke the truth,” said Trafford. “When she left England and me she fled to Three Star with a man who had stolen her from me.”