“I’m not mad at you, as you call it. I’m simply disgusted.”
And with a final “Good night” flung haughtily over her shoulder Miss Nora Darling disappeared into the house.
Mac took off his hat and gazed at the door that had been closed in his face. He scratched his puzzled poll in vain.
“I ce’tainly got mine good and straight just like Reddy got his. But what in time was it all about? And me thinkin’ I was a graduate in the study of the ladies. I reckon I never did get jarred up so. It’s plumb discouraging.”
If he could have caught a glimpse of Nora at that moment, lying on her bed and crying as if her heart would break, Mac might have found the situation less hopeless.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE SIGNAL LIGHTS
In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was a deserted miner’s cabin.
The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of the buildings below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded it screened the shack from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke was rising from the mud chimney, and inside the cabin two men lounged before the open fire.
“It’s his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I look for him to drop down on the ranch. His hate’s kind of volcanic, Mr. Ned Bannister’s is, and it’s bound to bubble over mighty sudden one of these days,” said the younger of the two, rising and stretching himself.
“It did bubble over some when he drove two thousand of my sheep over the bluff and killed the whole outfit,” suggested the namesake of the man mentioned.