The Reverend rattled his pens and said:
"I think I might persuade him. Have I, as your employee, your permission, I might say, your order, to bring him here?"
"Of course. If there is anything I can do.... Ugh!" She shuddered and pressed a wrist against her eyes. "It's beastly! Beastly!"
The Reverend departed and throughout the day Jane Hunter could think of little other than the situation which he had outlined to her. Her wrath was roused, replacing the disgust she had felt at first, and her heart went out to Bobby Cole with a tenderness that only woman can know for woman.
She tried to think ahead, to consider what she could say or do, to speculate on what the results of this next meeting with Dick Hilton might be.
Evening was well into dusk with the first stars pricking through the failing daylight when two riders came through the HC gate. Dick Hilton rode first and behind him, one hand in a deep pocket of his frock coat, rode the Reverend.
"You can get down and open the gate," the Reverend said and Hilton, sulkily obeying, led his horse through.
"Now what?" he asked in surly submission.
"Now I'll finish my errand by escorting you to the owner of this establishment."
Hilton led his horse across to the dooryard. The Reverend dismounted and the two walked down the cottonwoods to the big veranda, the Easterner still in the lead, the other with his hand in his side pocket.