She busied herself with certain decanters and essences, and Courthorne held the glass she handed him high.
“The brightest eyes and the reddest lips between Winnipeg and the Rockies!” he said. “This is nectar, but I would like to remember you by something sweeter still!”
Their heads were not far apart when he laid down his glass, and before the girl quite knew what was happening an arm was round her neck. Next moment she had flung the man backwards, and stood very straight, quivering with anger and crimson in face, for Courthorne, as occasionally happens with men of his type, assumed too much, and did not always know when to stop. Then she called sharply, “Jake.”
There was a tramp of feet outside, and when a big, grim-faced man looked in at the door Courthorne decided it was time for him to effect his retreat while it could be done with safety. He knew already that there were two doors to the saloon, and his finger closed on the neck of a decanter. Next moment it smote the newcomer on the chest, and while he staggered backwards with the fluid trickling from him, Courthorne departed through the opposite entrance. Once outside, he mounted leisurely, but nobody came out from the hotel, and shaking the bridle with a little laugh he cantered out of the settlement.
In the meanwhile, the other man carefully wiped his garments, and then turned to his companion.
“Now what’s all this about?” he said.
The girl told him, and the man ruminated for a minute or two. “Well, he’s gone, and I don’t know that I’m sorry there wasn’t a circus here,” he said. “I figured there was something not square about that fellow, anyway. Registered as Guyler from Minnesota, but I’ve seen somebody like him among the boys from Silverdale. Guess I’ll find out when I ride over about the horse, and then I’ll have a talk with him quietly.”
In the meanwhile, the police trooper who had handed him the packet returned to the outpost, and, as it happened, found the grizzled Sergeant Stimson, who appeared astonished to see him back so soon there.
“I met Courthorne near his homestead, and gave him the papers, sir,” he said.
“You did?” said the Sergeant. “Now that’s kind of curious, because he’s at the bridge.”