Hepburn's voice was breath-choked though outwardly he maintained composure.
"It makes damned little difference." It was Riley speaking and his hand was on his holster. "Hepburn, you and everybody else stand pat until you're called for."
Hepburn's eyes flared malevolently. He started to speak again, but closed his lips, as in forebearance. Sam McKee coughed with a dry, forced sound.
"What is it you want with me?"
Bobby stopped before Jane and eyed her up and down, gaze settling on the girl's face finally. There was hostility in it; there was hate ... a degree; but these were softened, subdued, leavened by an outstanding appreciation. Her lips trembled and, almost thoughtlessly, she put out a hand to touch her father's, fingers squeezing his in a movement of affection ... and relief.
For a moment Jane did not speak. Then she began, lowly, rapidly, flushed but resolute and with a light of friendliness in her eyes.
"I want you to understand me ... without any more delay. You and I came into this country at about the same time. Where we should have been friends from the first we have been enemies; it even came to such a pass that you promised to drive me from the country."
Her voice shook a bit and on the words that old hostility leaped back into Bobby's face.
"I think that was because you did not understand me. You have thought that I wished you bad luck from the first and that is not so. Had I wanted to have vengeance on you, had I wanted to drive you out, I could have done so this afternoon ... only a moment ago. I am not trying to impress you with my generosity because I don't feel that I have been generous. I have tried to be just; that is all. I have tried to do the thing that would mean the most to all of us....
"But there are things with which you can help me. I am sure. There are so many things that we have in common. You see, you and I are very much alike."