Again that dryness of manner as he looked at the girl.
"And this other? This water hole? What about that?"
Beck could not give her an answer.
"It all depends on what sort of nester this is. He might be talked out of it, though that ain't likely."
She tapped the desk with nervous fingers.
"I came down to tell you about Dad last night. That's why I was here," he explained, as though he considered an explanation necessary. And with it was an indication of the curiosity which he could not conceal.
Jane flushed, and her gaze fell. The man stood looking down at her golden hair, the soft skin of cheeks and throat, the parted lips. One of his hands closed slowly, tightly. For a moment he let himself want her!
"I am very glad that you did come. I don't know how much you heard or what you saw but—"
"Nothing that I can recall, except that you wasn't havin' your own way."
The courtesy of this touched her and she smiled her gratitude.