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Doubler's eyes were gleaming brightly. "You're some keen, after all," taunted Duncan. Doubler's jaws snapped. "You're a liar!" he said; "Dakota wouldn't do it!" "Maybe I'm a liar," said Duncan, his face paling but his voice low and quiet.
She sprang to the pail, to find that it contained very little. She had lifted it, and was about to unfasten the door, intending to go to the river to procure fresh water, when Doubler's voice arrested her. "There's some water there I can hear it splashin': It'll do well enough just now. I don't want much. You can get some fresh after a while. I want to talk to you."
You'd naturally think that money could buy everything. But maybe Doubler has found happiness on his land. You couldn't buy that from a man, you know. I suppose you care a lot about Doubler's happiness you wouldn't want to take his land if you knew he was happy on it? Or don't it make any difference to you?" There was faint sarcasm in his voice.
She put the memoranda back into one of the pockets, handling both the book and the vest gingerly, for she felt an aversion to touching them. She conquered this feeling long enough to tuck the vest into the slicker behind the saddle, and then she mounted and sent her pony up the trail toward Doubler's cabin. She found Doubler where she had left him, and he was still unconscious.
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