“That’s right,” nodded Wiley, “you’ve got it 87all straight. Now let’s quit before we get into a row.”
He bent over the steak and, after a meaning look at Virginia, the Widow discreetly withdrew.
“We saw you fighting George,” ventured Virginia at last as he seemed almost to ignore her presence. “Weren’t you afraid he’d get mad and shoot you?”
“Uh, huh,” he grunted, “wasn’t I hiding behind Blount? No, I had him whipped from the start. Bad conscience, I reckon; these crooks are all the same–they’re afraid to fight in the open.”
“But yourconscience is all right, eh?” suggested Virginia sarcastically, and he glanced up from under his brows.
“Yes,” he said, “we’ve got ’em there, Virginia. Are you still holding onto that stock?”
A swift flood of shame mantled Virginia’s brow and then her dark eyes flashed fire.
“Yes, I’ve got it,” she said, “but what’s the answer when you sell out your tax claim to Blount?”
“I wonder,” he observed and went on with his eating while she paced restlessly to and fro.
“You told me to hold it,” she burst out accusingly, “and then you turn around and sell!”