“No, they didn’t. They said you’d offered a thousand dollars for him.”
Haig laughed.
“All right, if that suits you better! They told you they had brought him here to deliver him to me for a thousand dollars, and you thought it would be a fine joke to buy him yourself. Is that it?”
Huntington did not respond to this, but watched Haig narrowly, a little puzzled by his manner.
“How much did he offer you?” Haig asked Larkin.
“Two thousand dollars––and then he said name our price.”
Haig whistled.
“Well, I’m damned if you haven’t got some sporting blood in you!” he said, smiling at Huntington. “How much was in your roll?”
Huntington’s first impulse was to tell Haig that it was none of his business. But he was deceived by Haig’s manner, having expected his enemy to fall upon him like a thunderbolt. His surprise was shared, indeed, by most of the men, who had expected gun-play on the jump. Only Marion, sitting still and watchful 44 on her pony, was not misled. She felt that Haig was playing with Huntington, and biding his time.
Huntington’s vanity completed his self-delusion.