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"You had some words then with this Brainard I think you called him Brainard exacted some promise from him?" "Yes, your Honor," was the only reply. Did not Mrs. Packard speak, too? We all seemed to think so, for we turned toward her; but she gave no evidence of having said anything, though an increased nervousness was visible in her fingers as she pushed the matches about.
Since old man Packard had promised to stop at nothing, since Blenham was full of venom, Steve never for a moment doubted whose hand had fired the three shots. But he merely called his cowboys together, told them what had happened, ordered them to keep their eyes open and their guns oiled, and hoped and longed for the time when he himself could come upon Blenham busied with some act like this.
You, with your looks and your ambitions, to marry at twenty-five a girl from the kitchen! any girl, even if she had the making of an Olympia Packard, if you did not know that it was in your power to shake her off when you got ready to assert yourself, or better prospects offered?
Steve Packard stared and flushed hotly and began to feel his own anger mount quickly. "Butt in on your affairs!" he snorted after a fashion more than vaguely reminiscent of his grandfather. "I like that! As if I'd have come a step without your invitation." And so he blurted out the one thing he should have left unsaid, the thing which already rankled in Terry's proud heart.
And you can take Blenham a message for me: Phil Packard knifed dad and double-crossed him and made him pretty nearly what he is now; old Hell-Fire Packard finished the job. But just the same, the Temple Ranch is still on the map and Terry Temple had rather scrap a scoundrel to the finish than shake hands with one. And one of these days dad's going to come alive yet; you'll see."
And since you meant well all along and were just simply the blunderheaded man God made you, I guess I have been a little cat. Good luck to you and a worth-while trail to ride." She blew him a friendly kiss from her brown finger-tips, bent over her wheel, and took the first turn in the road at a swiftly acquired speed which left Steve Packard behind in dust and growing wonderment.
"You know the cause of Mrs. Packard's present uneasiness?" I asked. "Mayor Packard told me the paragraph which appeared in yesterday morning's paper. I have tried to find out its author, but I have failed so far." "That is a trifle," I said. "The real cause no, I prefer to stand," I put in, for he was again urging me by a gesture to seat myself. "The real cause " he repeated.
"You strike me," said Terry abruptly and emphatically, "as a pretty slick proposition." "Why so?" asked Packard interestedly. "Because," said Terry. For a moment he thought that she was going to stop there.
"I know what perhaps you had rather have had me ignorant of. Mrs. Packard told me about the bonds you lost, and how you thought them still in the house where your brother died, though no one has ever been able to find them there. Oh, sit down," I entreated, as they both turned very pale and looked at each other in affright.
"It's Blenham on the front seat with a bandage around his head!" she cried. "He's hurt! And dad, that man back there is Steve Packard! And he's driving that crowd off his ranch, as sure as you are Jim Temple and I'm Teresa Arriega Temple!" Temple started. "What's that?" he demanded with a genuine show of interest. Together they stared down the road. On came the wagon and the rider behind it.
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