Edmonds, who disregarded his remark, sat smoking quietly. Since he was tolerably certain as to what the result would be, he felt that it was now desirable to let Hawtrey decide for himself, in which case it would be impossible to reproach him afterwards. Wheat, it seemed very probable, would fall still further when the harvest began, but he had reasons for believing that the market would rally first. In that case Hawtrey, who had sold forward largely, would fall altogether into his hands, and he looked forward with very pleasurable anticipation to enforcing his claim upon the Range. In the meanwhile he was unobtrusively watching Hawtrey’s face, and it had become evident that in another moment or two his victim would adopt the course suggested, when there was a rattle of wheels outside. Edmonds, who saw a broncho team and a a wagon appear from behind the barn, realized that he must decide the matter without delay.
“As I want to reach Lander’s before it’s dark I’ll have to get on,” he said carelessly. “If you’ll give me a letter to the broker, I’ll send it to him.”
Next moment a clear voice rose somewhere outside.
“I guess you needn’t worry,” it said, “I’ll go right in.”
Then Sally walked into the room.
Edmonds was disconcerted, but bowed, and then sat down again, quietly determined to wait, for he discovered that there was hostility in the swift glance she flashed at him.
“That’s quite a smart team you were driving, Miss Creighton,” he remarked.
Sally, who disregarded this, turned to Hawtrey.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked.
“He came over on a little matter of business,” answered Hawtrey.