In spite of all Gordon's lack of faith in Hazel's efforts, they had not been without effect. Slosson had been flattered. His vanity had seen conquest in Hazel's readiness to accept his company. It had been obvious to him from the first that the manner in which he had displayed his "nerve" before her at the ranch pleased her more than a little. After all, she was a mere country girl—a "rube" girl.
Nor was it likely that she would be difficult now. She was pretty, pretty as a picture. Her figure appealed to his sensual nature. She didn't know a thing—outside her ranch. Well, he could teach her. Especially now. Oh, yes, it was all very opportune. He would teach her all he knew. He laughed. He would teach her for—her father's sake. And—yes, for the sake of that young cub of a man that had ordered him out of the office.
What was his name—"Van Henslaer"? Yes, that was it. A "square-head," he supposed. The country was full of these American-speaking German "square-heads." Then quite suddenly he began to laugh. For the first time since he came to Snake's Fall the thought occurred to him that possibly this fellow was in love with Hazel himself. He had been so busy prosecuting his own attentions to her himself that he had never considered the possibility of another man being in the running. The thought inspired an even more pleasant sensation. It threw a new light upon Van Henslaer's attitude. Well, there was not much doubt as to who was the favored man. The fellow's very attitude suggested his failure.
Slosson felt he was going to reap better than had seemed at first. He would ruin Mallinsbee's schemes and satisfy his company at a slight personal loss to himself. He would complete his triumph over the individual in Mallinsbee's office. First of all, through Mallinsbee's failure in the land scheme, by robbing him of a position, and secondly, through robbing him of all chance of success with the girl. It was not too bad a retort. He would have made it harsher if he could, but, for a start, it would have to do. Later, of course, since he would see a great deal of Snake's Fall and his power in the place would increase, he would extend operations against his enemies.
Hazel must be his—his entirely. To that he had made up his mind. She was much too desirable to be "running loose," he told himself. Marriage was out of the question, unless he wished to commit bigamy; a pleasantry at which he laughed silently. Anyway, if it were possible, it would not have suited him. Marriage would have robbed him of the right to break up her father's land scheme. No, marriage was—— Well, he was married—to his lasting regret.
Hazel was very attractive; very. He could quite understand a man making a fool of himself over her. He had once made a fool of himself, and in consequence marriage was very cheap from his point of view. He regarded women now as lawful prey. And apart from Hazel's attractiveness, which was very, very seductive, it would be a pretty piece of getting back on her father and that other. He laughed again. It was quaint. The prettier a woman the greater the fool she was.
So he rode on towards the coalpits.
His narrow eyes were alert, watching the horizon on every side. He was looking for that fawn-colored figure on its brown mare. His thoughts were full of it now. The rest was all thrust into the background, leaving full play to his desires, which were fast overwhelming all caution. It would have been impossible to overwhelm his sense of decency.
Suddenly it occurred to him that it was ridiculous that he should go on to the coalpits. His eagerness was swaying him. His mad longing for the girl swept everything before it. Why should he not cut across to the westward and intercept her on the way from the ranch? She must come that way, and—he could not possibly miss her.
He looked at his watch. It wanted half an hour to their appointment. Why, he would be at the pits in ten minutes, which would leave him a full twenty minutes of waiting.