“I’m not quite sure, but I have an idea they were displeased because he did not countenance their attempt to wreck the cattle-train. Then, I believe he held some dollars in trust for them, and, as they presumably wanted them for some fresh outrage, would not give them up. Mr. Grant is evidently a man with a sense of responsibility.”
Hetty looked up suddenly. “Yes,” she said. “He would have let them tear him to pieces before he gave them one.”
Cheyne noticed the faint ring in her voice, and fancied it would have been plainer had she not laid a restraint upon herself. A vague suspicion he had brushed away once more crept into his mind.
“Well,” he said, slowly, watching Hetty the while, “I fancy the efforts he made to save your friends’ stock will cost him a good deal. The point is that a man of his abilities must have recognized it at the time.”
Hetty met his glance, and Cheyne saw the little glow in her eyes. “Do you think that would have counted for anything with such a man?”
Cheyne made a little gesture of negation that in a curious fashion became him. “No. That is, I do not believe he would have let it influence him.”
“That,” said Miss Schuyler, “is a very comprehensive admission.”
Cheyne smiled. “I don’t know that I could desire a higher tribute paid to me. Might one compliment you both on your evident desire to be fair to your enemies?”
He saw the faint flush in Hetty’s face, and was waiting with a curious expectancy for her answer, when Torrance came in. He appeared grimly pleased at something as he signed to Cheyne.
“His friends have burned the rascal out,” he said. “Well, I don’t know that we could have hoped for anything better; but I want to hear what you can tell me about it. You will have to spare me Captain Cheyne for a little, Hetty.”