"will you do that one thing? i shall not try to hold you...."
"yes," she said stiffly. and then she laughed nervously, saying in a hard, suppressed voice: "what choice have i, after all? the stage has gone and i have to go somewhere and find a stage again or a horse...."
"no. that is not necessary. if you will not come with me freely, i will take you now where you wish; to overtake the stage."
and thus, when already it was hard enough for her, he unwittingly made it harder. she wanted to go ... she did not want to go ... most of all she did not want him to know what she wanted or did not want. she cried out quickly:
"let us go then! i don't believe you! and, if you dare let me talk alone with mexicali joe, i shall know you for what you are!"
lynette was in bruce standing's study. he had gone for mexicali joe. she looked about her, seeing on all hands as she had seen during their racing drive, an expression of the man himself. here was a vital centre of enormous activities; standing was its very heart. the biggest man she had ever known or dreamed of
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knowing; one who did big things; one who was himself untrammelled by the dictates and conventions of others. and in her heart she did believe every word that he spoke; and thus she knew that he, this man among men, loved her!... and she loved him! she knew that; she had known it ... how long? perhaps with clear definiteness for the first time while she spoke of him with deveril, yearning for his coming; certainly when she had started at the sight of him at the stage wheel. so she held at last that it was for no selfish mercenary gain that he had been so long coming to her, but rather because he had lost faith in her, thinking ill of her. that was what hurt; that was what held her back from his arms, since she would not admit that he could love her truly and misdoubt her at the same time. for certainly where one loved as she herself could love, one gave all, even unto the last dregs of loyal, confident faith. how confident all day she had been that he would come to her!
lynette, restless, walked up and down, back and forth through the big rooms, waiting. her wandering eyes were everywhere ... upon only one of the shining table tops was a scrap of paper. in her abstraction she glanced at it. her own name! written as though signed to a note.
in a flash her quickened fancies pictured much of all that had happened: deveril to-day had told standing she was going out on the stage; deveril had told standing all that had happened ... because deveril, too, loved her and knew that she loved his kinsman. she recalled now how deveril had stopped a little while in camp after taggart had dragged her away. so deveril had left this note behind? and standing knew now; he had said there were reasons why he had been so sure she had gone to deveril. she understood how now
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it would be with him; deveril had told him everything and he, accepting a rich, free gift from the hand of a man he hated was not the man in turn to speak ill of one who had striven to make restitution, though by speaking the truth he might gain everything! these were men, these two; and to be loved by two such men was like having the tribute of kings.... she heard standing at the door, bringing mexicali joe. there was a little fire in the fireplace; she ran to it and dropped the paper into the flames behind the big log. the door opened to standing's hand. at his heels she saw mexicali joe.
"no!" she cried, and he saw and marvelled at the new, shining look in her eyes; a look which made him stop, his heart leaping as he cried out wonderingly:
"girl! oh, girl ... at last?"
"don't bring joe in! i don't want to talk with him; i want your word, just yours alone, on everything!"
now it was mexicali joe who was set wondering. for standing, with a sudden vigorous sweep of his arm, slammed the door in joe's perplexed face and came with swift eager strides to lynette.
"it is i who have been of little faith and disloyal," she said softly. "i was ungrateful enough to forget how you were big enough to take my unproven word that it was not i who shot you, a thing i could never prove! and yet i asked proof of you! i should have known all the time that ... 'though it were ten thousand mile....'"
she was smiling now and yet her eyes were wet. she lifted them to his that he might look down into them, through them into her heart.
"let me say this ... first ..." she ran on hastily. "babe deveril saved me the second time to-day from taggart. and he told you where to find me. i think that he has made amends."
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"he wiped his slate clean," said standing heartily. "henceforth i am no enemy of his. but it is not of deveril now that we must talk. girl, can't you see...."
"am i blind?" laughed lynette happily.
