He was really extraordinarily strong, but no
debutante's self-sufficiency could have excelled his. He was so
frankly an egotist that it ceased to be a weakness.
Back in her room at the hotel an hour later Helen paced up and
down under a nervous strain foreign to her temperament. She was
afraid; for the first time in her life definitely afraid. This
man pitted against her had deliberately divorced his life from
morality. In him lay no appeal to any conscience court of last
resort. But the terror of this was not for herself principally,
but for her flying lover. With his indubitable power, backed by
the unpopularity of the sheepman in this cattle country, the King
of the Bighorn could destroy his cousin if he set himself to do
so. Of this she was convinced, and her conviction carried a
certainty that he had the will as well as the means. If he had
lacked anything in motive she herself had supplied one. For she
was afraid that this villain had read her heart.
And as her hand went fluttering to her heart she found small
comfort in the paper lying next it that only a few hours before
had brought her joy. For at any moment a messenger might come in
to tell her that the writer of it had been captured and was to be
dealt with summarily in frontier fashion.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223