“If he wants to talk about a deal in wheat, he can stay away,” said Mrs. Hastings sharply. “If all one hears is true, he has lost quite a few of Harry’s dollars on the market lately.”
Hastings looked troubled at this. “I’d sooner think it was his own money he’d thrown away.”
“That’s quite out of the question. He hasn’t any.”
“Well,” said Hastings, with an air of reflection, “I’ll get Sproatly to make inquiries. He’ll probably be along with Winifred this evening, and if he finds that Gregory is getting in rather deep I’ll have a word or two with him. I can’t have him wasting Harry’s money, and, as one of the executors, I have a right to protest.”
Agatha started at the last word. It had an ominous ring, and she fancied that Hastings had noticed the effect on her, for he glanced at her curiously. Turning from him, she rose and walked to the window.
The wheat stretched across the foreground, tall and darkly green, and beyond it the white grass ran back to the hill, which cut sharply against a red and smoky glow. The sun had gone down some time before, and there was an exhilarating coolness in the air. Somehow the sight reminded her of another evening, when she had looked out across the prairie from a seat at Wyllard’s table. Almost a year had passed since then.
The wagon drew nearer down the long slope of the hill, and the beat of hoofs that grew steadily louder in a sharp staccato made the memories clearer. She had heard Dampier riding in the night Wyllard had received his summons, and now she wondered who the approaching stranger was, and what his business could be. She did not know why, but she thought it was not Gregory.
Presently Hastings looked round again. “It’s the team Bramfield hires out at the settlement,” he said. “None of our friends would get him to drive them in. There seem to be two men in the wagon. Bramfield will be one. I can’t make out the other.”
Mrs. Hastings, who was evidently becoming curious about the unexpected guest, went to his side, and they stood watching the wagon until Agatha made an abrupt movement.
“It’s Captain Dampier!” she exclaimed with foreboding in her voice.