“What’s this I hear about you being one of these here prohibition spotters?” he demanded, fixing a penetrating eye on his woods rider.
“Why, nothing at all about it!” returned Lockwood, staggered. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. Who’s been saying that?”
“Well—a good many fellows are saying it,” said Craig. “I didn’t know what to think. I’ll say you’re doing well here, but you ain’t no turpentine man, I can see you’ve got something else on your mind. I don’t want no government men round here. I can do all the prohibition enforcement myself that I need in this here camp. If I find any man bringing in a bottle of liquor I’ll take the hide off’n him. I’ve run Blue Bob out of the bayou. I ain’t got no use for bootleggers, but I ain’t got none for spotters either.”
“Well, I’m no spotter, I do assure you,” said Lockwood. “But I will say that a spotter would find a mighty rich field here at Rainbow Landing. I’ve no interest in bootleggers, one way or the other. Did that story come from the Power place?”
“I dunno as I’d just say that it did,” returned Craig carefully. He began to fill his pipe and spoke with elaborate casualness. “I’d hate to get the Power boys worked up against me, if I was you. They’re good boys, but they growed up rough and reckless. I’d look out right sharp for ’em.”
It was meant for a warning, and Lockwood grasped that there might be more danger in the air than he had imagined.
He met Louise the next Sunday morning. She was less cheerful than usual. She looked tired, as if she had slept badly. She said she felt exhausted with the heat, and did not want to ride far. They made a mile circuit through the woods, and were coming back to the road before Lockwood ventured to question her as to the movement of affairs.
“Not so badly. The boys have decided not to buy the light car. Hanna even advised against it. I wonder why. There was a card game at the house last night. Jackson won nearly seven hundred dollars from the Fenways. It lasted till nearly morning and I couldn’t sleep. That’s why I feel worn out to-day. I wonder how long this is going to last.”
“Not long now. As I said before—just trust me.”
“I do trust you.” She laughed rather wearily. “You can see that I do, or I wouldn’t be riding with you now, since Tom told me”—she glanced up at him laughingly and grotesquely exaggerated the Alabama drawl—“that I wasn’t ter have nothin’ more to do with you, nohow—at all!”