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Updated: June 29, 2025
One hand went up to his long, black hair and he scratched his head, while his wild eyes settled themselves on Tresler's broadly grinning features. Suddenly he walked back to his seat, took up his dish of hash and continued his supper, making a final remark as he ate. "Langwidge? Gee! I pass." And during the rest of the meal "hog" found no place. They discussed the topic of the day threadbare.
The twisted side of his face wrinkled hideously, while the other side smiled. "You mentioned Blind Hell just now?" questioned Tresler, as the other relapsed into a quiet survey of him. "Blind Hell, did I?" said Nelson, repeating the name, a manner which seemed to be a habit of his. "Yes. What is it? What did you mean?" Tresler's questions were a little peremptory.
And so he remained, in spite of Tresler's blunt announcement of himself. "It is necessary for me to see you, Mr. Marbolt," he said. And he stood waiting for his answer. It came, after some moments, in a tone that offered no encouragement, but was more civil than he expected. "Since you say so, I suppose it is." Quite indifferent and certainly undaunted, Tresler proceeded
He listened apparently unmoved to every detail, and displayed a wonderful patience while Tresler went point for point over his arguments in favor of his suspicions of Anton. Once only he permitted his sightless glance to pass in Jake's direction, and that was at the linking of the foreman's name with Tresler's suspicions.
He had wormed the whole story of the rancher's anger at Tresler's presence in the house from his young mistress, and, also, he understood that Diane's engagement to her patient was known to her father. Therefore his lynx eyes never closed, his keen ears were ever strained, and he moved about with a gun in his hip-pocket.
"Besides," broke in Joe, with an impatience bred of his reading through Tresler's lame objection, "you jest notion to rile Jake some. Wal, you're a fool, Tresler a dog-gone fool! Guess you'll strike a snag, an' snags mostly hurts. Howsum, I ain't no wet-nurse, an' ef you think to bluff Jake Harnach, get right ahead an' bluff.
Only Joe Nelson really endorsed Tresler's opinion. But then Joe was a man who had lived his youth out, and had acquired that level-headedness from experience which Tresler possessed instinctively. Besides, he was in touch with Diane. He had lived more than ten years on that ranch, during which time he had stood by watching with keenly observant eyes the doings of the cattle world about him.
Perhaps I was only asleep." The girl shook her head. "You were more than asleep," she said portentously. "Anyhow, I distinctly remember a dream I had. I should say it was 'nightmare. It was about your father. He'd got me by the throat, and what's the matter?" Diane started, and, to Tresler's alarm, looked like fainting; but she recovered at once.
"You're shaking." "There's nothing the matter with me," she replied pointedly. "Ah, thinking of him." His hand reached out until it rested on one of Tresler's legs. His remark seemed to require no answer, and a silence fell while Diane watched the eyes so steadily directed upon the sick man. Presently he went on. "These men have done well. They have saved the cattle. Arizona mentioned the sheriff.
"Nothing," she said, "only only I can't bear to think of that time, and then then father strangling you! Don't think of your dream. Let's talk of something else." Tresler's alarm abated at once; he laughed softly and leant forward and kissed her. "Our future our little home. Eh, dearest?" he suggested tenderly.
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