I think she had really admired Apache Kid before, but I surmised—a third party, the one who looks on and does not talk, can surmise a great deal—that, as the saying is, she had been tampered with. She had heard tales against my friend, and now doubtless believed that she was provided with proof that he was a rogue. The look on her face was as though she were gaining confirmation.
"Excuse me interrupting," said George, in the doorway, "but I suppose you have speciments o' this ore."
I expected Apache Kid either to ignore the interruption or to recognise it with some sarcasm or flash of anger. Instead, he turned lightly to the speaker.
"Ah!" he said, "I had not noticed you. So you are interested in——" he paused, "in mines," he said.
Margaret stiffened, and George said easily:
"Well in this one I reckon I am."
"Ah yes," said Apache Kid. "There has been of course a lot of talk about it. Yes, I have specimens."
He produced two pieces and handed them to George, and then turning to Miss Pinkerton, he said:
"I was going to make a suggestion to you, Miss Pinkerton, remembering your father's desire that we—remembering the desire he expressed to us, I was going to make the suggestion, that, if it would not offend you, you would accept— May I speak before this gentleman?"
"Certainly," said she, coldly.