Usually Black’s movements were slow. Now no panther could have leaped for the lamp more swiftly. He blew out the light, crept along the log wall to the window, reached out a hand cautiously, and drew a curtain across the pane through which a bullet had just come. Then, crouching, he ran across the room and took a rifle from the deer’s horns upon which it rested.
“Come on, you damn bushwhacker. I’m ready for you,” he muttered.
CHAPTER XXV
A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION
Betty was whipping mayonnaise in the kitchen when a voice hailed the Diamond Bar K ranch in general.
“Hello the house!”
Through the window she saw a rider on a horse, and a moment later her brain localized him as a neighborhood boy who had recently joined the forest rangers. She went to the door, sleeves still rolled back to the elbows of the firm satiny arms.
“Hoo-hoo!” she called, flinging a small hand wildly above her head in greeting. “Hoo-hoo, Billy boy!”
He turned, caught sight of her, and at once began to smile. It was noticeable that when Betty laughed, as she frequently did for no good reason at all except a general state of well-being, others were likely to join in her happiness.
“Oh, there you are,” he said, and at once descended.
“Umpha! Here I am, but I won’t be long. I’m making salad dressing. Come in to the kitchen if you like. I’ll give you a cookie. Just out o’ the oven.”