“Well, if it ain’t Adam!” ejaculated her companion. “You son-of-a-gun!... Why, you’ve changed!”
“Guerd,” began Adam, and then his voice halted. To meet his brother this way was a tremendous ordeal. And Guerd’s presence seemed to charge the very air. Worship of this magnificent brother had been the strongest thing in Adam’s life, next to love of mother. To see him again! Guerd Larey’s face was beautiful, yet virile and strong. The beauty was mere perfection of feature. The big curved mouth, the square chin, the straight nose, the large hazel-green eyes full of laughter and love of life, the broad forehead and clustering fair hair—all these were features that made him singularly handsome. His skin was clear brown tan with a tinge of red. Adam saw no change in Guerd, except perhaps an intensifying of an expression of wildness which made him all the more fascinating to look at. For Adam the mocking thing about Guerd’s godlike beauty was the fact that it deceived. At heart, at soul, Guerd was as false as hell!
“Adam, are you goin’ to shake hands?” queried Guerd, lazily extending his arm. “You sure strike me queer, boy!”
“No,” replied Adam, and his quick-revolving thoughts grasped at Guerd’s slipshod speech. Guerd had absorbed even the provincial words and idioms of the uncouth West.
“All right. Suit yourself,” said Guerd. “I reckon you see I’m rather pleasantly engaged.”
“Yes, I see,” returned Adam, bitterly, with a fleeting glance at Margarita. She had recovered from her surprise and now showed cunning feminine curiosity. “Guerd, I met Collishaw, and he had the gall to brace me for that gambling debt. And I’ve hunted you up to tell you that you cheated me. I’ll not pay it.”
“Oh yes, you will,” replied Guerd, smilingly.
“I will not,” said Adam, forcefully.
“Boy, you’ll pay it or I’ll take it out of your hide,” declared Guerd, slowly frowning, as if a curious hint of some change in Adam had dawned upon him.
“You can’t take it that way—or any other way,” retorted Adam.