“I’m looking for Sam!” The effort behind the words turned them into an oratorical challenge.
“So are we. I want to send him home with Mrs. Hardin. She’s worn out.”
“She can go home with me. I am going directly. As soon as I give a message to Sam.” She instantly regretted her words, abruptly halting. It came to her that Rickard would insist upon delivering her message. Of course, he would oppose her going. Some petty reason or other. She knew from the men that he was oppositional, that he liked to show his power. Not safe, he would say, or the horse was needed, or Sam too busy to wait on her!
“You can not go home alone, you two. The town is full of strange Indians. Give me your lantern, Miss Hardin; I’ll rout out that darky.”
Rebelliously she gave him the lantern. The light turned full on her averted angry eyes.
A haughty Thusnelda followed him.
Sam was discovered asleep in the only room where the windows had not yet been attacked. His head rested on a bundle of sacked trees which the ladies of the Improvement Club had planned to plant the next day. Deep snores betrayed his refuge.
“Here, Sam! I want you to take these ladies home. Chase yourself. They’ve been working while you’ve slept. I thought you’d have all these windows out by now.”
Gerty had to supply the courtesy for two. She told Mr. Rickard in her appealing way that he had been very kind; that she “would have been frightened to death to go home alone.”
Innes had to say something! “Good night!” The words had an insulting ring.