Surely he was difficult; but for all that, she felt herself drawn to the man. There was a feeling that if she could scale his granite sides and sit upon the shelf of his shoulder she would be safe—that nothing could topple him from the spot where he had taken root.
“I want to talk to you, Mr. Whitefield. It is a matter of great importance—almost of life and death,” she said.
“Say it,” said Jared Whitefield.
“They’re going to appoint Deputy Jenney sheriff,” she said.
“Know it.”
“It mustn’t be.”
“Why?”
“Is it safe to speak here. A word overhead——”
“This is my yard,” said Jared, and there was much, much more in the words than the mere statement of the fact. It was a declaration of independence. It was a guaranty. It lifted Jared out of the commonplace and made a personage of him—the unquestioned ruler of a principality. Where he was, he ruled.
“You know what my paper has done.”