I don't know what you're gettin' at, trying to drag
your gun out that way. I was hopin' we'd be friends. We ought to, you
know, bein' neighbors."
"Friends?" Taggart stepped back a pace and looked at Calumet
incredulously, his eyes searching for signs of insincerity. He saw no
such signs, for if Calumet had emotion at this minute it was too deep
to be uncovered with a glance. But he knew from Taggart's perturbation
that the latter knew him to be the man he had shot at that day in the
valley.
Obviously, he had not then had any suspicion as to his identity--his
surprise showed that he had not. And his half-fearful, puzzled looks
at Calumet indicated to the latter that he was wondering whether
Calumet recognized him as the man who had done the shooting.
Calumet's smile was cordial, inviting, even slightly ingratiating, and
watching him closely Taggart was convinced that he was not recognized.
Also he was certain that Calumet could not have learned anything of the
trouble between their parents. Yet Betty knew, and if Betty hadn't
told him there must be something between them--dislike or greed on
Betty's part--and a smile appeared on his face as he remembered that he
had heard his father say that Calumet had been vicious and unmanageable
in his youth. He must be at odds with Betty.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123