"He tricked me, dad, or he would never have got the gun away from me. This—this Pierre—this beast—he got me to talk of Hal till my eyes filled up and I couldn't see. Then he stole——"
"The point," said Jim Boone coldly, "is that he got the gun. Run along, Jack. You ain't so growed up as I was thinkin'. Or hold on—maybe you're more grown up. Which is it? Are you turnin' into a woman, Jack?"
She whirled on Pierre in a white fury.
"You see? You see what you've done? He'll never trust me again—never! Pierre, I hate you. I'll always hate you. And if Hal were here——"
A storm of sobs and tears cut her short, and she disappeared through the door. Boone and Pierre stood regarding each other critically.
The boy spoke first: "You're not as big as I expected."
"I'm plenty big; but you're older than I thought."
"Too old for what you want of me. The girl told me what that was."
"Not too old to be made what I want."
And his hands passed through a significant gesture of moulding the empty air. The boy met his eye dauntlessly.