“I saw that Colonel Huntley deliberately set out to insult me,” said Walter, his eyes glinting with anger, his fists clenched.
“That’s true,” said Ned, coolly. “So he did. And more than that.”
Walter looked at his friend, for in his tone he noted a something which attracted his attention.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“The whole thing was arranged,” said Ned, nodding his head assuredly. “Those two planted themselves in the doorway to wait for you. Colonel Huntley was to provoke you, and that fellow Barker was to step in at the right moment and pick a fight with you.”
Walter threw up his hand and his angry eyes sought the length of the men’s cabin.
“Well,” said he, his hands tightly clenched, “it’s not too late, if he’s still of the same mind.”
But Ned Chandler shook his head; apparently he did not agree with his friend’s present humor.
“I know how you must feel,” said he, “to hear your father badly spoken of in a thing like this. He’s giving his money and his time and his learning to do a thing which will never bring him a penny of gain. He’s sending you on a mission to a distant place like Texas, just because he wants to see right done. And to hear people say things, like those Huntley and Barker have said, is hard to bear. But you must bear it.”
“I will not!” said Walter steadily, his eyes still searching the cabin for the two men.