“Wal, no. That is, I guess I mentioned it like, but Miss Dianny wus that flustrated an’ kind o’ angry she jest went right up to her room, an’ I thought best to git around hyar.”
Tresler was thinking hard; and while he thought he stood watching the door where they had both seen Jake disappear. It occurred to him to go and seek Diane for himself. Poor girl, she would surely tell him if there were anything wrong. After all, he had the right to know. Then he thought of Anton.
“Was Anton——?”
He had turned to Joe, but his remark was cut short. Jake’s door suddenly opened and the foreman came hurriedly out. Joe caught his companion by the arm, and they both looked after the giant as he strode away toward the barn. And they simultaneously became aware of something unsteady in his gait. Joe was the first to draw attention to it.
“Say, he’s bin drinkin’,” he whispered, in an awed manner.
Tresler nodded. This was something quite new. Jake, with all his faults, was not usually given to drink. On the contrary, he was a particularly sober man.
Tresler swiftly made up his mind. “I’m going to see what’s up, Joe,” he said. “Do you see? He’s making for Marbolt’s stable.”
It was almost dusk. The men had settled down to their evening’s occupations. Tresler and Joe were standing alone in the shadow of the bunkhouse wall. The lamp was lit within the building, and the glow from the window, which was quite near them, darkened the prospect still further. However, Tresler still could see the foreman, an indistinct shadow in the growing darkness.
Leaving his companion without further remark he hurried after the disappearing man and took up his position near the barn, whence he could both see and hear what might be going forward.