Her face,
in the flickering light from the candle on the floor, was slightly in
in the shadow, but Calumet could see that the color was coming back to
her cheeks, and he took note of her, watching her with insolent
intentness.
Of the expression in Calumet's eyes she apparently took no notice, but
she was watching the man he had attacked, plainly concerned over his
condition. And when at last she saw that he was suffering more from
shock than from real injury she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she
turned to Calumet.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. She was breathing more
easily, but her voice still quivered, and the hand over her bosom moved
with a quick, nervous motion.
"I reckon that's my business," returned Calumet. He had made a
mistake, certainly, he knew that. It was apparent that his father had
left the Lazy Y. At least, if he were anywhere about he was not able
to come to investigate the commotion caused by the arrival of his son.
Either he was sick or had disposed of the ranch, possibly, if the
latter were the case, to the girl and the man. In the event of his
father having sold the ranch it was plain that Calumet had no business
here. He was an intruder--more, his attack on the man must convince
both him and the girl that there had been a deeper significance to his
visit.
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