“Ah!”
Then there was a silence for some minutes. The red eyes were frowning in the direction of the window. At last the man drew a deep breath, and Jake, watching him, wondered what was coming.
“I’ll see her,” he said slowly, “and I’ll see him—after he comes back from Willow Bluff.”
That was all, but Jake, accustomed to Julian Marbolt’s every mood, read a deal more than the words expressed. He waited for what else might be coming, but only received a curt dismissal in tones so sharp that he hurried out of the room precipitately.
Once clear of the verandah he walked more slowly, and his eyes turned in the direction of the bunkhouse. All the old hatred was stirred within him as he saw Tresler turn the angle of the building and disappear within its doorway.
“Guess no one’s goin’ to see you—after Willow Bluff,” he muttered. “No one.”