“I think I’ll go and see if the children are going to ride with us,” he said. “There is no reason why we shouldn’t ride as usual.”
He went to Eva’s door and looked in. Apparently she was still fast asleep. Her hair was down, and her curls lay in soft confusion upon her pillow. Very gently he closed the door again, glad that she could sleep.
When he entered his son’s room he found Custer lying fully clothed upon his bed, his belt about his waist and his gun at his hip. His suspicions were crystallized into belief.
But why had Custer killed Crumb? He couldn’t have known of the man’s affront to Eva, for she had seen no member of the family but her father, and in him alone had she confided.
He crossed to the bed and shook Custer by the shoulder. The younger man opened his eyes and sat up on the edge of his bed. He looked first at his father and then at himself—at his boots and spurs, and breeches, and the gun about his waist.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Five o’clock.”
“I must have fallen asleep. I wish it was dinner time! I’m hungry.”
“Dinner time! It’s only a matter of a couple of hours to breakfast. It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
Custer rose to his feet in surprise.