"I'd rather rest a while--somewhere--" Her glance went past him in the direction of the cottage. "Then I can ride home--alone."

"And tumble off in the road somewhere!" he retorted, with a touch of derision in his tone.

"Oh, no!" she pleaded. "It's not as bad as that."

"No matter! I can't allow you to take any chances," he insisted curtly.

"Really, I need only a little rest," she persisted. "If I could lie down a few minutes--" her eyes again were turned toward the cottage.

He saw what she meant, and frowned.

"No!" he snapped. Then, checking himself, "I don't mean to be inhospitable, but you ought to know that's impossible."

"You mean--Cousin Seth?"

He shot a look at her that frightened her, but gratified her too. Was she rousing him at last?

"Yes, if you like," he said, quietly enough. "I'm having a hard enough time with the fool without a woman being mixed up in the affair."

"I don't understand," said Marion.

"You don't understand!" he repeated. "Of course not. Women never understand--until afterwards. I'll make it plainer. I'm a bad man, as you have doubtless heard. What would Paradise Park say when it learned that you had been inveigled into my house?"

She was silent a moment.

"Well then, let me sit here and rest!" she insisted.

"But why?" he demanded impatiently.

She took her courage in both hands, and plunged.

"I want to talk to you," she said eagerly. "I want to ask you if there is no way--"

"Excuse me!" he broke in. "I don't want you to talk to me. If I did--"

He stopped, with a shrug. Marion felt her face reddening, but she dissembled her embarra.s.sment.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"

It was spoken archly, in her most playful, most kittenish manner, and so she was amazed to see his face distorted as if by some violent emotion. But he spoke with restraint, though in a tone that was hard and harsh.

"Yes, I am afraid of you. The only thing in the world a man needs to fear is a woman."

The first effect of this speech was to surprise and shock her. The next was to make her heart leap. Had she come near the secret, after all? Then, finally, something deep in the man's eyes roused in her a thrill of pity. In another minute she would have melted, in her compa.s.sion, and begged him humbly to pardon her. But at that instant Curly emerged from the barn, leading the sorrels; and the devil that lurks behind a woman's tongue spoke for her before she was aware of it.

"So you'd rather one of your men took me to Cousin Seth!"

It was scarcely out before she regretted it with all her heart. If there was a devil behind her tongue there was another back of the somber shadows in Haig's eyes. He flashed one comprehending look at her; his whole manner underwent a swift and terrifying change; he was again the Philip Haig of that day at the post office.

"Great!" he exclaimed. "That will be the best joke of all. I'll drive you home myself, of course."

For a moment Marion sat very still on the soap box, stunned, staring open-mouthed at Haig. What had she done? That mad speech! Then she leaped to her feet.

"No! No!" she cried. "You shall not!"

He smiled at her.

"Shall not?" he repeated sardonically.

"I mean--please not that!" she faltered.

"Why not?" he demanded, almost gaily.

"Oh, please! I didn't mean it that way."

"Of course you didn't mean it! Women never do mean it--that way. And I suppose you didn't mean to let those men ride on to Paradise when they told you the horse was mine, did you?"

"Oh!" cried Marion, almost in a scream. "How did you--know?"

He laughed.

"I happened to ask Larkin if he had met n.o.body on the road who could have directed him. He said there was no one but a 'purty girl.' That was you, wasn't it?"

She was speechless.

"And my warning to Huntington. Did you deliver that?"

"No," she answered, scarcely above a whisper.

"Of course not. That would have been too simple and honest and direct.

You can't be honest and straightforward to save your lives. You live by deception, and boast about your love of truth. Your deepest craving is for violence, while you prate about your gentle influence over men.

I haven't the least doubt in the world that Mrs. Huntington, for all her baby face, is back of all Huntington's violence--thinks she's a wonderful inspiration to him, with a special genius for the cattle business! And when she gets him killed--with your a.s.sistance--she'll flop down, and weep--and you too, both of you--and wail that you didn't mean it!"

She recoiled from him, and leaned helplessly against the wall of the stable.

"So you let the men ride on to Paradise," he went on with relentless mockery, "and you let Huntington plunge into that business when you knew, from me, exactly what it meant. And you rode over here to-day--I wonder, now, if your foot's really hurt, or if that also is some trick!"

It was the merest chance shot. He had no suspicion that she had been shamming, for he had been too much annoyed by the whole incident to be critical of her demeanor. But the shot went home. The girl, without a word or cry, suddenly sank down on the box, with her face buried in her hands.

There ensued a moment of tense silence. For all the bitterness that surged under his railing speech, Haig was not untouched by the sight of the girl, bent and cowering before him. But at the same time he was exasperated anew by the scene that was being enacted under the eyes of his two men.

"Come!" he said presently, not without reluctant gentleness. "It's growing late. We must start at once."

The words increased her terror. Through the hands that covered her eyes she could see Haig and Huntington--with revolvers drawn; and Claire's white face--She rose impulsively, dropping her hands from her hot and tear-stained cheeks. She would confess all to him, though it should betray the inmost secret of her heart; and would beseech him not to go--

"Don't say it--here!" he commanded sharply, lowering his voice as he bent toward her. "They think there's something queer about all this.

Come!"

She obeyed him silently, her resolution vanishing before his authority. Besides, there was yet time, somewhere on the road.