It was finally decided that Sam must be hiding in the bush somewhere near, and that he would come in with his tail between his legs when he got hungry.
There was not much concern one way or the other. Most of the men indulged in the secret hope that Sam would stay away. He was a game kid, they were now ready to confess, but altogether too touchy; there was no getting along comfortably with him. Had he not almost put the resteraw out of business? It was as Bela said—if both the hotheads kept out of the way, they might have some peace and comfort there.
Sergeant Coulson had compunctions. He proposed getting up a search-party for Sam. The idea was laughed down. Nice fools they'd make of themselves, opined Mahooley, setting out to look for a man in good health and in the full possession of his faculties who hadn't committed any crime.
There was a good attendance at Bela's dinner, and a full house at night. To their undiscerning eyes Bela seemed to be her old self. That is to say, she was not moping over what had happened. A wise man would have guessed that she was taking it much too quietly; he would have seen the danger signals in that unnaturally quick eye. Bela had dropped her usual air of reserve. To-night she seemed anxious to please. She smiled on each man in a way that bade him hope. She laughed oftener and louder. It had a conscious, provocative ring that the wise man would have grieved to hear. Competition became keen for her smiles.
When they finished their supper there were loud calls for her to come in and sit among them. Bela shrugged and, picking up a box, stood looking over them. They fell suddenly silent, wondering which she would choose. She laughed mockingly and, turning, carried her box in front of the fire.
From this point Mahooley, in the midst of the general chaffing, unexpectedly received a narrow-eyed look over her shoulder that went to his head a little. He promptly arose and carried his box to her side. Mahooley was the greatest man present, and none presumed to challenge him.
Bela bridled and smiled. "What for you come over here?" she demanded. "I not tell you to."
"Oh, I took a chance," said the trader coolly. At the same time his wicked, dancing little eyes informed her that he knew very well she had asked him over. The sanguine Mahooley was no celibate, and he cared not who knew it.
"You think 'cause you the trader you do w'at you like," said Bela mockingly.
"Any man can do pretty near what he wants if he has the will."