“Aye? And your reason for that?”
“My reason for that?” Reivers laughed under his breath. “Why, did you ever hear of a more popular reason for a man risking his throat than gold? I heard the story of this deal from your brother Duncan and your daughter. I need—or rather, I want money. Shanty Moir had won over you and had gold. I came to win over Moir and get the gold away from him. Isn’t that simple?”
“Simple and spoken well,” said MacGregor calmly. “Will you answer me one question: Did you serve notice on my brother Duncan that you were out on this hunt?”
“I did.”
“Fair enough again. A man has a right to take trail and do what he can if he speaks out fair. I take it you hardly calculated to find me here alive?”
“No, I didn’t think Moir was such an amateur as to take any chances.”
“Ah, he needed a draft beast, lad; that’s why I’m alive, and no other reason. And finding me here alive, does it alter your plans any?”
“Only a trifle. You see, I’d made up my mind to bring Moir and your daughter Hattie face to face to see if she could make good on her big talk of taking revenge for putting you out of business. Now that I see you’re still alive—well, I won’t let any little foolishness like that interfere with the business I’ve come on.”
“I mean about the gold, man?”
Reivers looked at his questioner in surprise.