“Why?”
Again came that swift interrogation.
“Why?” Jim glanced out over the evening scene below them. Then his eyes came back with a steady look into the cattleman’s lean face. “Because, if the thing Doc Lennox guesses is right, we’ll need him. I’d say we’ll know when my sister gets back to us.”
“What d’you mean?”
Lightning was leaning forward crouching in his chair, his hands gripping its arms as though he were about to spring. His eyes were shining with the cold fury of a tiger. His jaws were still, the worn remains of his teeth gritting.
Jim realised the storm lying behind his question.
“Why, there’s swine of men in the world, Lightning,” he said, “who’re always ready to take advantage of a woman’s weakness when she falls for the love that’s just bursting her heart. And—and—he’s one of ’em.”
“God! I’ll kill him!”
Lightning’s words came with a shout. He had risen to his feet, and stood for a moment unmoving. Then he came to the edge of the verandah, and his eyes were on the hills, as though they were already searching for his victim. Jim watched him. And as he watched the man turned slowly.
“If—if he’s—”