This was the last straw. Seth snorted like a baited animal, whirled around, bolted from the house, and ran blindly to the barn.
“Saddle Nigger!” he yelled to Williams, who obeyed with stumbling alacrity, while Huntington strode up and down before the door.
From the window of the ranch house Claire and Hillyer, silent, watched him until he had flung himself into the saddle, dug the spurs into the flanks of his favorite and now astonished black horse, and disappeared up the hill.
“Where’s he going?” asked Hillyer, suspicious that Huntington meant mischief.
Claire drew back from the window with a sigh of relief.
“He’s going to––” She laughed softly, but with just a little tremor in her voice––“He’s going to––look after the cattle.”
Hillyer saw that her blue eyes were moist.
“He’s the best man in the world, and––I love him,” she said, looking at Hillyer with a soft appeal. “You believe that, don’t you?”
“Indeed I do, Mrs. Huntington,” Hillyer answered heartily.
“Then you must forgive him; he has such a temper!”