Slow of comprehension usually, in this instance the fellow was quick to see the point and vaulted into the saddle—with what result the reader already knows.
As he beheld the girl snatched from a terrible death by the hands of another, a great rage burned in his heart. In his ears, the words of his father, "you'll save her life and she'll be grateful" kept ringing. But instead of being grateful to him she would be grateful to the handsome stranger and his jealousy pictured the rest.
No incident of the scene between the rescued girl, her father and the rescuers had escaped his eye. As he heard the banker's offer and the stranger's retort, a malignant grin overspread his ugly countenance, only to disappear the next instant at the expression on Sally's face as she ran to join her father.
With a savage oath, Consollas wheeled his pony, rowelling the animal viciously with his spurs, and dashed off to the store.
But his father had witnessed the abortive attempt of his son and when the latter burst into his private office, he checked his wild words, waving him to a chair.
"It's too bad, Fred, you didn't do better," he began, but the lad blurted:
"Too bad? I'll be the laughing stock of the Springs and it'll be your fault because you told me to get on my pony. The people have gone crazy over those strangers."
Surprised at the vicious ring in his son's voice, the elder Consollas watched him a few minutes before continuing:
"What I was going to say was that while it was too bad you couldn't have saved the girl yourself, we can take the wind out of those men's sails."