you like I did.
But it was partly your fault, too. Maybe that's mysterious to you, but it
will have to stay a mystery. I had an idea in my head that night--and
something else. I've found something out since that makes me feel a lot
sorry. If I had known what I know now, that wouldn't have happened to
you--I've got my eyes open now."
Their ponies were very close together, and leaning over suddenly he placed
both hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes, his own flashing with
a strange light. She did not try to escape his hands, for she felt that
his sincerity warranted the action.
"I've treated you mean, Sheila," he said; "about as mean as a man could
treat a woman. I am sorry. I want you to believe that. And maybe some
day--when this business is over--you'll understand and forgive me."
"This business?" Sheila drew back and looked at him wonderingly. "What do
you mean?"
There was no mirth in his laugh as he dropped his hands to his sides. Her
question had brought about a return of that mocking reserve which she
could not penetrate. Apparently he would let her no farther into the
mystery whose existence his words had betrayed. He had allowed her to get
a glimpse of his inner self; had shown her that he was not the despicable
creature she had thought him; had apparently been about to take her into
his confidence. And she had felt a growing sympathy for him and had been
prepared to meet him half way in an effort to settle their differences,
but she saw that the opportunity was gone--was hidden under the cloak of
mystery which had been about him from the beginning of their
acquaintance.
"This Doubler business," he answered, and she nibbled impatiently at her
lips, knowing that he had meant something else.
"That's evasion," she said, looking straight at him, hoping that he would
relent and speak.
"Is it?" In his unwavering eyes she saw a glint of grim humor. "Well,
that's the answer. I am not going to kill Doubler--if it will do you any
good to know. I don't kill my friends."
"Then," she said eagerly, catching at the hope which he held out to her,
"father didn't hire you to kill him? You didn't talk to father about
that?"
His lips curled. "Why don't you ask your father about that?"
The hope died within her. Dakota's words and manner implied that her
father had tried to employ him to make way with the nester, but that he
had refused. She had not been wrong--Duncan had not been wrong in his
suspicio
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