Shucks. I
beg your pardon, ma'am. If it'll do you any good to know, I thought
your poor grandpap was some one else. I was thinkin' it was a family
affair, an' that I had a right to guzzle him. You see, I thought the
ol' maverick was my father."
The girl started, the color slowly faded from her cheeks and she drew a
long, tremulous breath.
"Then you," she said; "you are----" She hesitated and stared at him
intensely, her free hand tightly clenched.
He bowed, derisively, discerning the sudden confusion that had
overtaken her and making the most of his opportunity to increase it.
"I'm Calumet Marston," he said, grinning.
The girl gasped. "Oh!" she said, weakly; "Oh!"
The huge pistol slipped out of her hand and thudded dully to the floor
and she stood, holding tightly to the door jambs, her eyes fixed on
Calumet with an expression that he could not analyze.
CHAPTER III
CALUMET'S GUARDIAN
A new silence fell; a silence pregnant with a premonition of renewed
strife. Calumet felt it and the evil in him exulted. He left the desk
and stepped close to the girl, deftly picking up the fallen pistol and
placing it on the desk back of him, out of the girl's reach. She
watched him, both hands pressed over her bosom, apparently still
stunned over the revelation of his identity.
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