The talk and tears relieved Ann and she smiled bravely at him when he left; a tenderness was in her face that disturbed him.
Day after day the rancher appeared in Yavapai, each time going directly to the hotel and to Ann. Many times he talked to her in her room; often, they were seen together on the veranda; occasionally, they walked short distances. The eyes of the community were on Ann anyhow, because, being new, she was intrinsically interesting, but this regularity on the part of Bayard could not help but attract curious attention and cause gossip, for in the years people had watched him grow from a child to manhood one of the accepted facts about him had been his evident lack of interest in women. To Nora, the waitress, he had given frank, companionable attention and regarding them was a whispered tradition arising when the unknown girl arrived in Yavapai and Bruce appeared to be on intimate terms with her from the first.
But now Nora received little enough of his time. She watched his comings and goings with a growing concern which she kept in close secret and no one, unless they had watched ever so closely, would have seen the slow change that came over the brown haired girl. Her amiable bearing toward the people she served became slightly forced, her laughter grew a trifle hard, and, when Bruce was in sight, she kept her eyes on him with steady inquiry, as one who reads eagerly and yet dreads to know what is written.
One day the cattleman came from the hotel and crossed the street to the Yavapai saloon where a dozen men were assembled. Tommy Clary was there among others and, when they lined up before the bar on Bruce's arrival, feet on the piece of railroad steel that did service as footrail, Tommy, with a wink to the man at his right said:
"Now, Bruce, you're just in time to settle 'n argument. All these here other hombres are sayin' you've lost your head an' are clean skirt crazy, an' I've been tellin' 'em that you're only tryin' to be a brother to her. Ain't that right, now? Just back me up, Bruce!"
He stood back and gestured in mock appeal, while the others leaned forward over the bar at varying degrees that they might see and grinned in silence. Bayard looked straight before him and the corners of his mouth twitched in a half smile.
"Who is this lady you're honorin' by hitchin' me up with?" he asked.
"Ho, that's good! I s'pose you don't quite comprehend our meanin'! Well, I'll help you out. This Lytton girl, sister to our hydrophobia skunk! They think you're in love, Bruce, but I stick up for you like a friend ought to. I think you're only brotherly!"
"Why, Tommy, they ought to take your word on anythin' like that," Bayard countered, turning slowly to face the other. "Th' reason th' Yavapai Argus perished was 'cause Tom Clary beat th' editor to all th' news, wasn't it?"
The laugh was on the short cowboy and he joined it heartily.