“I wouldn't use a gun unless I had to.” He paused, laid his hand on McGlory's arm, and dropped his voice. “Look there! There's a light in the window.”
McGlory swelled with rage. “I 'll put a stop to this!”
“Hold on a minute, Joe. I 'll slip around the bank of the creek here, the other side of the barn, so I can watch the road and the barn both.” He ran silently away, dodging among the trees, and in a moment had disappeared. While McGlory was standing there, breathing hard and twitching impatiently, he passed behind the barn-yard, keeping always among the trees of the bank, and on to the bridge. Here he looked carefully around, then stooped under the beams of the bridge flooring and got into a scow that lay there.
McGlory stood still as long as he could, then, throwing, the reins to his temper, he strode toward the house.
CHAPTER XII—THE MEETING
