Part 10 (1/2)

One thing was certain; he was not shooting anyone unless the provocation was great.

His voice was purposely loud when he called ”Whoa, Mustard!” to his pony, but his eyes were not purposely bright and expectant as they tried to penetrate the semi-darkness of the interior of the cabin for a glimpse of Miss Radford.

He heard a movement presently, and she was at the door looking at him, her hands folded in her ap.r.o.n, her eyes wide with unmistakable pleasure.

”Why, I never expected to see you again!” she exclaimed.

She came out and stood near the edge of the porch, making a determined attempt to subdue the flutter of excitement that was revealed in a pair of very bright eyes and a tinge of deep color in her cheeks.

”Then I reckon you thought I had died, or stampeded out of this country?” he answered, grinning. ”I told you I'd be comin' back here.”

But the first surprise was over, and she very properly retired to the shelter of a demurely polite reserve.

”So you did!” she made reply. ”You told me you were comin' over to see my brother. But he is not here now.”

Had he been less wise he would have reminded her that it had been she who had told him that he might come to see her brother. But to reply thus would have discomfited her and perhaps have brought a sharp reply.

He had no doubt that some of the other Two Diamond men had made similar mistakes, but not he. He smiled broadly. ”Mebbe I did,” he said; ”sometimes I'm mighty careless in handlin' the truth. Mebbe I thought then that I'd come over to see your brother. But we have different thoughts at different times. You say your brother ain't here now?”

”He left early this morning to go down the river,” she informed him.

”He said he would be back before sun-down.”

His eyes narrowed perceptibly. ”Down” the river meant that Radford's trail led in the general direction of the spot where he had seen the fleeing horseman and the dead Two Diamond cow with her orphaned calf.

Yet this proved nothing. Radford might easily have been miles away when the deed had been done. For the present there was nothing he could do, except to wait until Radford returned, to form whatever conclusions he might from the young man's appearance when he should find a Two Diamond man at the cabin. But anxiety to see the brother was not the only reason that would keep him waiting.

He removed his hat and sat regarding it with a speculative eye. Miss Radford smiled knowingly.

”I expect I have been scarcely polite,” she said. ”Won't you get off your horse?”

”Why, yes,” he responded, obeying promptly; ”I expect Mustard's been doin' a lot of wonderin' why I didn't get off before.”

If he had meant to imply that her invitation had been tardy he had hit the mark fairly, for Miss Radford nibbled her lips with suppressed mirth. The underplay of meaning was not the only subtleness of the speech, for the tone in which it had been uttered was rich in interrogation, as though its author, while realizing the pony's dimness of perception, half believed the animal had noticed Miss Radford's lapse of hospitality.

”I'm thinkin' you are laughin' at me again, ma'am,” he said as he came to the edge of the porch and stood looking up at her, grinning.

”Do you think I am laughing?” she questioned, again biting her lips to keep them from twitching.

”No-o. I wouldn't say that you was laughin' with your lips--laughin'

regular. But there's a heap of it inside of you--tryin' to get out.”

”Don't you ever laugh inwardly?” she questioned.

He laughed frankly. ”I expect there's times when I do.”

”But you haven't lately?”

”Well, no, I reckon not.”

”Not even when you thought your horse might have noticed that I had neglected to invite you off?”