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Belllounds stood with his back to the fire and his manner did not compare favorably with that of the genial cowboys. "I prefer to play four-handed," he said. This declaration caused a little check in the conversation and put an end to the amiability.
Jack Belllounds swaggered over from the ranch-house. He met civility and obedience now where formerly he had earned but ridicule and opposition. So long as he worked hard himself the cowboys endured. The subtle change in him seemed of sterner stuff. The talk, as usual, centered round the stock subjects and the banter and gossip of ranch-hands.
Andrews. An' Collie kept askin' for me. She was out of her head, you know. An' soon as I took charge she got better." "Heavens! Collie ill and you never told me!" cried Moore. "I can't believe it. She's so healthy and strong. What ailed her, Bent?" "Well, Mrs. Andrews said it was nervous breakdown. An' Old Bill was afraid of consumption. An' Jack Belllounds swore she was only shammin'."
But Old Bill Belllounds had come into his own again back to the calm, iron pioneer who had lived all events, over whom storm of years had broken, whose great spirit had accepted this crowning catastrophe as it had all the others, who saw his own life clearly, now that its bitterest lesson was told.
"Columbine Belllounds, I told you let you see in every way under the sun," he flashed at her. "Let me see what?" faltered Columbine, feeling as if the world were about to end. "That I loved you." "Oh!... Wilson!" whispered Columbine, wildly. "Yes loved you. Could you have been so innocent so blind you never knew? I can't believe it."
He was forced to acknowledge that no one would have believed it possible for Jack Belllounds to perform a feat which might well have been difficult for the best of cowboys. But Jack accomplished it and got back home before daylight.
"The more the merrier," replied Columbine. "Wal, I reckon I'll not ask anybody." "Why not, dad?" "No one can gamble on thet son of mine, even on his weddin'-day," replied Belllounds, gloomily. "Dad, What'd Jack do to-day?" "I'm not sayin' he did anythin'," answered the rancher. "Dad, you can gamble on me." "Wal, I should smile," he said, putting his big arm around her.
And to make matters worse, when she arrived at the ranch it was to meet Jack Belllounds with a face as black as a thunder-cloud. "The old man wants to see you," he announced, with an accent that recalled his threat of a few hours back. "Does he?" queried Columbine, loftily. "From the courteous way you speak I imagine it's important." Belllounds did not deign to reply to this.
That augmented Columbine's anxiety. Peering out of her covert, she espied three horsemen trotting along the trail, and one of them was Jack Belllounds. They appeared to be in strong argument, judging from gestures and emphatic movements of their heads. As chance would have it they halted their horses not half a dozen rods from Columbine's place of concealment.
I'll hide and I'll watch.... But, Columbine Belllounds, if he ever corners me again " "Why, you'll leave him to Hell-Bent Wade," interrupted the hunter, and he looked up from where he knelt, fixing those great, inscrutable eyes upon the cowboy. Columbine saw something beyond his face, deeper than the gloom, a passion and a spirit that drew her like a magnet.
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